


where we find home

by peppicola



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Death, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Fantasy AU, M/M, Mages, Magic, Multi, Polyamorous Relationships, Soulbonds, Soulmates, Trans Male Characters, magick, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppicola/pseuds/peppicola
Summary: it's intended as a mediation; an invitation for reconciliation as the reign of a new emperor began. the promise of a prosperous relationship, heir to a previously unstable rule, and a clan seemingly trapped in a shadow.tooru knows this. understands it, even. he just can't be the one to do it.





	1. nothing with any certainty (prologue)

Tooru is six and the air is cold.

It's something that he's never took notice of before, never really cared to mind, but it's suddenly suffocating. He can feel it brushing, clinging to his small figure, could discern the underlying dampness that seemed to amplify the bitter chill. Breathing it in seems difficult; it clings to the length of his throat, lays heavy in his lungs, leaves a fog in his mouth.

It shouldn't be, not with the ever dimming embers casting their faint, warm, pink glow into the dark of the room, not with the steady amber glow that blooms from the scaled chest of his grandmothers Wyvern, who lay silent in a nest of the dying flames, but Tooru's so cold he's shivering. 

Outside, thunder cracks against the thrum of the rain, a streak of light breaking through the darkness, illuminating the rain streaked window, and Tooru wonders why he can't feel his fingers.

Someone's touching his cheeks, running gentle fingers over his nose, lightly tracing the freckles over the crest of his brow, and he can't remember where the weighted hollowness that's settled itself in his ribs is from. Next there's lips, brushing barely-there butterfly quick kisses atop his pale lids, and Tooru can feel a sudden wetness hit his nose.

He knows they're tears, on some distant level. The droplet traces down the curve of his rounded cheeks, another chasing, this time catching in his lashes.

They're not his; the fingertips lovingly shifting through his hair are damp with them as well, the markers of stifled sobs, and before him, their eyes are rimmed with red, chapped lips are moving.

He thinks they're humming, murmuring the quiet words of his favourite lullaby as gentle fingers tuck a lock of loose hair behind his ears, voice wobbling with choked tears. He can't really tell; his ears have a sort of ringing that won't go away.

It's like floating, he thinks dimly, the numbness having crawled up his fingers into his forearms, seeped into his calf's.

It's only when a shaky breath rattles past their lips, and they straighten from their crouch does Tooru move; he doesn't know why he does it, or where the sudden screaming panic comes from, but suddenly, he has his fingers twisted in the thick material of the traveling cloak that shrouds their figure. His eyes burn, dipped blankly to the carpet covered floor. 

He can't breath, and he knows, he knows that they can't go, why she can't go, _please don't go, mommy-_

She touches a set of fingers to his forehead, the touch light and achingly familiar, breathing out something in a language he knows, why can't he remember, he doesn't _understand-_ and the heavy numbness returns, leaving his fingers leaden, falling from the woolen cloak. The figure follows his hands down, cupping them gently in their own.

Their fingers are cold, Tooru notes.

Outside, the storm grows, twisting into a tempest, with the growing roar of heavy rain, and thunder barreling in the sky. Through the paned window, the spray of violent clashes of wind and lake were barely visible, marking the battle of white crested waves against the overwhelming onslaught of rain. 

They let out a single, warped sob, suddenly wrapping the child in their arms, chest stuttering with uncontrollable breaths. He inhaled in their scent, the muted smell of fresh cut wood and lakewater swirling around him gently. It was a scent he'd known his whole life, but had never distinguished; something he was so accustomed to, it was apart of him.

Against Tooru's ear, there was the quiet vibration of air, and he stood, listening to them hiccup the phrase over and over again, getting softer and softer each time until it was just a quiet murmur. There's the uneven brush of badly chopped hair against his face, something he's never known to rest that short.

Idly, he wonders about nothing in particular, feeling strangely detached as the warmth retreats. It's oddly anticlimactic, compared to the wracking sobs from moments earlier, and the tears that came with it.

It's quiet-Tooru simply watches as they readjust the clasps of their cloak, and tighten their satchel, watches as they run the heel of their palm under their nose. 

It feels as though he's missing something, an unnamed affliction that he'd had taken from him. There's no pain as the door swings shut, trembling in its frame, only the _whoosh_ of cold air as the storm briefly whistles into the house. 

There's something biting into the palm of his hand; he hadn't even remembered opening it.

It's a thin rope of leather, intricately braided, laying limply in his palm, an ivory charm attached near the middle. Tooru traces the now dulled edge with his finger, wondering with childlike horror who could defang from their own dragon.

* * *

_"Natus ex focis."_

_"Nos faciemus reditus."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Okay so to start off I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if so, feel free to leave a kudos~  
> I'm going to be starting this mastuhanaiwaoi slowburn fantasy fic, I've already got most of the planning done, and it'll be relatively slow with odd updates, and by odd I mean 1-2 weeks in between each one.  
> This was just sort of a prologue, and as of right now I don't have a beta so if there's any mistakes feel free to let me know! I hope u enjoy :)


	2. begin again

Below Tooru, the flightgrounds are quiet.

They're nearly empty, the sandy overhanging cliff where the stables rest in moonlight are stagnant, fjord glowing beneath them. It's far too early for anyone besides the Night Watchers to be up, and it seems even the crickets chatter had been muted in wait.

The few elders who'd chosen too send them off gather near the stables, talking amongst themselves with taunt faces. There is a tired tension that hangs about them, and Tooru's riders seem to distance themselves from the huddle, as if to ward off their energy.

It's understandable; the tribes sending what's essentially the three remaining clans chances of an even a slightly peaceful alliance to the other side of the kingdom, that still disregarding the fact that the hopes not only rest on, but area group of kids.

Tooru's the only adult, and he's yet to be twenty.

Of course, Tooru had argued. Who better to send than someone of relative ages to the new Emperors?

It'd taken weeks to even reach that conclusion, with lengthy discussions of who they could entrust with the duty, or what their tasks would even be. 

The nervous grouping of his elders makes total sense, but it still manages to make his stomach tighten.

But, he knows his mission; secure alliances, trade history and tradition.

_(Know your enemy.)_

Before him, his fingers worked thoughtlessly on the leather harness, clipping buckles, and smoothing out the underbelt, Tooru focused on the errand with his head tipped towards the shimmering creature. Beneath the worn straps, turquoise scales shifted, glimmering in the rare streaks of early morning sunlight, and he gently skimmed the ambre colouring with the bridge of his knuckles, following the darker patterned scales to her underbelly, checking uselessly for ingrown scales; a simple routine.

Minx shifted her weight in front of him, grey-brown claws scraping against the floor of dirt. A series of snorted clicks came from his right, impatience clear in her huffed sounds, and he clicked back with his tongue, playfully patronizing; they would be leaving soon, anyways.

Beside him, Kagayama was running his fingers against Lady's midnight blue scales, gently mimicking Tooru's previous actions with his own dragon, and he felt a spark of annoyed-pride at his kin. Naturally, Tooru has been the one to assist with his cousins training, and should have been pleased to see him pick up the etiquette so well, but he was a inherently competitive person.

He and his cousin were preparing apart from the main Weyr, just far enough up the hill to dull their voices.

There was a the jangle of a harness behind him, along with a weighted thump, and he bit down on a sigh, watching Tobio turn to greet the newcomer out of the corner of his eye.

"Oy, Nii-san~" The brunnette glanced over his shoulder at the voice, watching his sister slide down the scaled side of her dragon  into a reaching stretch, before slouching into a crouch. Punne, Keikos dragon had settled a bit behind him, harness ajar. The emerald scaled dragon looked as sleepy as ever, yellow eyes resting in unfocused slits, only letting out a puff of warm air as the rider wiggled against her.

She was wearing the typical riding gear, white tights covered by a thick layer of dark fur which tucked into worn, thigh-high leather boots, and hooded riding cloak covering the loose of her shirt. A light purple sash was tied around her waist, the shimmering material straining to catch the light. A charmed harness hung unevenly from her chest, unbuckled cloak flowing around her, and Tooru raised his eyebrows at the state of her dress, giving her a pointed stare.

"Is there something you need help with, Keiko-kun?" He dipped his eyes to her uneven cloak in a pointed stare, before turning the rest of the way, taking a casual step toward her. "My time doesn't come easy you know."  

She scoffed gently, Punne stretching to settle more firmly behind her. "Of course, I just thought you should know that Mirai-san sent me to tell you that Sobo-san is looking for you."

He winced, though quickly plastered on a grin. "Ah, well, it's not like I have anything to worry about. I'm not the one who disturbed the fjord nymphs last night." He shrugged, moving to lean back against Minx. 

Keiko narrowed her eyes.

He gave her another clear once over, though his lips were quirked playfully. "And maybe you should worry about finishing preparing Punne-kun, or even your flight gear before you play messenger."

She grimaced.

"Even you can't escape Sobo-san, Tooru-nii," Kagayama appeared beside the pair, Lady in tow, his face doubtful.

The elder pursed his lips, breathing a quiet, "I can try."

Both Tobio and Keiko hummed noncommitedly, the former moving to sit near Keiko and Punne.

"Besides, we're leaving  soon anyways. I..." Tooru paused, feeling his neck prickle, and paled. 

Tooru turned in time to watch as the gathered elders dipped into bows, and the nearby dragons quieted their gentle chirping. Her presence was one of experience, and nobility, despite never having commanded more than their clan, one that made you stop and take notice.

He watched as she breezed by, dipping her chin in turn, and then zeroed in on the trio. The elder stood at what was once six-foot, skin tan and freckled with age, a vibrant red sash decorating her hips. Her hair hung silver, and would've trailed against the earth if not for the looped braids, ends reaching up to tie at the nape of her neck.

The sashes were a ageless custom, worn by everyone in the clan, each colour representing a different status; red, of course being the most respected as worn by the leaders; the tribe elders. Hers held a tier like no else, though, the golden streak representing her status of head of clan, and elders alike.

The trio dipped their heads as she approached their small group, and Tooru, customary of the eldest, greeted with a firm, "Sobo-san." 

She dipped her head, before staring at them for a moment, pausing to rest a light hand on Lady's nose. Her thumb circled the scales idly. The lines of her face were scrutinizing, and for a moment, nobody moved.

Then, she stepped towards Keiko, smacking the back of her head, albeit gently. "You and that lazy dragon are a terrible combination, I swear I should've broken it out of you two by now."

Sobo-san gave her riders harness a tug, and the claps gave, falling into a pile of straps around Keikos torso. The elder said nothing, just raised her eyebrows curtly, and dropped the strap that she had tugged into her lap, lips pursed. 

Keiko had the decency to look sheepish.

"And you!" The grandmother whipped around to Tooru, focus already zeroed in on her grandsons waist, hands reaching to retie the brunettes sash, "Sloppy, careless..." she muttered, gray brows furrowed. "You're leading this Weyr, aren't you?"

She yanked the light cyan fabric tight, and Tooru wheezed, nodding. "Y-yes, Sobo-san."

Satisfied with his retied sash, she checked his riding gear, before turning to Tobio, the bastard wide eyed and innocent. 

She said nothing, only tugged at the claps of his gear, before tucking one of the loose, rib length hairs behind his ear. "You need to braid more firmly."

The braids piled on Tobio's head were quite loose, Tooru would admit. Normally, he braided his sister and cousins hair, but he'd lost time in the preparations and had only managed to braid his own. The trio's hair was all quite lengthy, as was customary of their tribe of those above ten, with the one small braid from the crown of their head that was to be left wound. Currently, Tooru's hair was just reaching his belly-button if hanging free. 

Tobio nodded, fingers already working up from the ends, and Sobo-san only smiled at him.

Tooru sniffed; the younger always got off easy.

Finally, she paused, watching them with a sudden somberness, the thick of the woods behind her amplifying the sudden dark energy. The sun hadn't broken the horizon yet, and the moonlight paled her face.

For a moment, she was ancient.

There was a second of silence, a breeze teasing the wisps of hair near her face in the wind, and she let out a deep sigh. Her eyes were closed when she spoke again.

"I've helped raise all three of you. You two, " she gestured vaguely to Keiko and Tooru, "without a mother."

Keiko glanced towards the ground.

"I know what I'm trusting in, what I'm doing, sending you all off to the Emperors side without a Clan-Master. And I know that you still probably don't, on some level. But you,"

She turned to face them fully, eyes opening, "Are all the strongest of our Clans generation, magick wise, and elsewhere. I wouldn't send anyone else."

She glanced at Tooru purposefully, "And that excludes your special trait, Tooru-kun. Even without it, without your magick, you would have been chosen."

He swallowed thickly, thumbing the charmed leather of his fingerless gloves.

"I trust in all of you to do the best of your abilities to forge the bond our Clans desperately need. I trust in the fact that you know how to create those bonds while still upholding our reclusivety."

The trio were silent, Kagayama the first to nod, slipping into a bow, his cousins following. 

Tooru soon dismissed the younger two, telling them to mount their dragons and begin the formation, saying he'd be there in a minute, only watching as they made their way down the slope. Suddenly weary, he turned to his grandmother.

She met his gaze unblinkingly.

"Did you mean it?"

Her dark eyes were questioning. "Do you?" 

He sucked in his lower lip, turning away. "How long do you think I have before...?"

Her expression remained unchanged. "You know better than anyone, even if you don't realize it. You and I may be the only understand what it's like, but, I'm hopeful by then you'll have found..." she trailed off, staring out at the fjord. "That something will have already fallen into place."

The brass flight bell clanged loudly from somewhere behind him along with the elders chants of  _Natus ex focis_ , the signal for the takeoff of a Weyr, and he shook his head. "I don't know if I can do it without you, Sobo-san. It's just, after this, I think I'm out of time. And I'm not dragging either of them, or anyone, down with me just because of a hand-me-down betrothal."

"I knew you wouldn't." She didn't smile, nor offer words of reassurance, only looked at him with a deep sadness. Her eyes traced the outline of the fang around his throat. "Even if I wish you could."

"Sobo-san," His voice wavered, "I'm okay."

Her voice was a mirror of his own. "Of course. Nothing less from my grandson."

Tooru bowed stiffly, eyes downcast, then turned, looking at her once more.

_"Natus ex focis"_

An emotion he couldn't place swam heavy in her eyes, and unable to watch, he left, leaving to head the formation, Minx huffing once more after he'd mounted. 

The mage gave a sharp whistle, and the Minx spread her wings.

_"Nos faciemus reditus."_

* * *

It was evening when they arrived, passing above the town of Caliam, the sun sinking behind the horizon, streaking the sky with bursts of colour. The air was still and cool, enveloping the group in a chilled cocoon.

It was grander than Tooru had expected. After all, the palace had been the military head of the nation for decades of the former Emperors rule; the shaped elegance of the structure, the simple beauty of the royal garden, visible from even above, was a slight surprise. Idly, he wondered who's idea it was to change the military front.

His sister breathed a laugh from somewhere on his right, halting her conversation with Yamaguchi. "Beautiful, isn't it?

Tooru gave a slight grin, humming in agreement, before tilting himself sideways, and leading Minx into a gentle arch around the palace. The formation of four followed without a word, only watching as Tooru gave the castle a closer inspection. He'd been right; even through the altered look of the castle, the former front was visible, the shine of the stone walls, and the small, strategically placed viewpoints giving it away.

He tilted away from the structure, nudging his dragon upwards, dragging a hand down the small of Minx's turquoise scales, brows suddenly furrowed.

Kagayama drifted into his sight to the left, a similar look on his face. "Have you seen any flightgrounds?"

A spike of dry annoyance shot through him, his cousin only confirming his suspicions; their hosts could've at least provided somewhere to land the Weyr.

Tooru shook his head, a sudden smirk tilting his lips. "No, but do you happen to see an area large enough for five dragons to land, Tobio-chan?"

The younger looked up at him face filled with innocence. "The only space large enough would be the royal gardens."

The brunette grinned.

 

The formation hit the grand with muted thuds, each jogging a few paces to release the excess force, harnesses jangling against the dragons. Tooru pulled back firmly, reins drawn taunt, and Minx slowed to a stop, allowing Tooru to slide down the hood of his riding cloak, hair falling freely in its natural waves around his torso; they'd taken the braids out when they caught sight of the small town the palace crowned. It was a custom, to present with sash drawn tight and hair free in typically formal situations, one of Tooru's favourite.

He might have a flare for the dramatics, so what.

Finally, he stretched upwards, spine cracking, before slipping down to dismount Minx. He landed in a crouch, other riders following his lead, and stood to be greeted with a small crowd of people, a distinct three heading the group, one with vividly forest green eyes acting as a subtle block to the others.

There was a sword drawn at his side, the man seemingly relaxed, and Tooru had made the connection of this man with of Head of Military before he'd even glanced his way. He moved forward, eyes narrowed, and Tooru's eyes were drawn to the intricate lines crawling up his left arm like vines, the faint pink and deep brown colours literally swirling around his dark skin. 

He glanced at the two behind him, noting the similar dancing ribbons decorating the skin of their arms, and almost laughed; it seemed fitting that the three heirs would have soulties. Of course, the colours of the streaks differed to each person depending on the colour of their magick, which would then decorate their ties arms in a literal exchange of magick. 

"Oikawa, of the Custis Focis Clan." It wasn't a question. The man gave a slight bow, his voice deep and smooth, which Tooru returned with a slight shudder, meeting the mans gaze with his own narrowed stare. "I hope you managed to find a landing place to your liking?"

"Iwaizumi, of Mount Caliam, I presume." Tooru's own voice was cold, but then he grinned. "The gardens sufficed wonderfully."

The other two stepped forward, one with curled pink hair brushing his fingers subtly against Iwaizumi's elbow; a reassurance, before the other followed. A gold circlet rested upon the head of the brunette, giving away his status as if his the quick calculation of his eyes already hadn't. 

His smile was asymmetrical, one side tilting higher than the higher, and Tooru found himself tracing his lips with his eyes, before he straightened, meeting his gaze, suppressing a flush.

He stepped closer to Tooru, the height difference suddenly apparent, before stilling. Tooru bowed, his voice quiet. "Mastukawa-sama."

"Rise, Oikawa-san. It's a pleasure to finally have met you." The pleasantries were smoothly delivered, but Tooru could tell from his posture that formalities weren't his forte.

Tooru nearly rolled his eyes, but plastered on a charming grin. "Likewise. I believe we have much to benefit from this exchange, and I look forward to working with your attendants."

He nodded, gesturing for the man with the rose-coloured hair to step forward. "You and Iwaizumi have already been acquainted, but this is Hanamaki, Head Seer. He will be working closely with you."

Tooru didn't comment on how the deep green of their magick bonds seemed to twist, pulsing anxiously the closer the two stepped.

Then, he furrowed his brows. "Forgive my boldness, but isn't a fourth heir crowned?"

The Emperor shook his head. "When the Heir of Magick passed in the great war, no blood relatives were of existence."

Tooru frowned.

Minx clicked from behind him, and Tooru half-turned to run a hand down her muzzle soothingly, suddenly distracted, and clicked back quietly. Tooru twisted towards the Emperor, dipping his head. "Apologies for asking, my Grace, but where might the stables be?"

Mastukawa stepped forward, reaching to gesture with a hand when Minx turned her head, sending Tooru stumbling into the Emperor, who reached to stabilize him with a hand. Their skin brushed together, and an explosion of energy released, sending both Tooru and the Emperor flying in different directions. A wave of magick surged between the two, filling the space with a mist like haze, the scent of rust and burnt sugar thick in the air. 

Tooru felt his magick burn through the palm of his hand, slipping to tie with Matsukawa's as a deep brown crawled up the length of his own arm, and into his chest, prickling as it tangled against Tooru's own magick source. There was a dull ringing in his ears, but he could hear the strangled breaths of the Emperor, as if he couldn't breath, or was gasping in pain-

The rider forced himself to his hands and knees with a shivering push, his limbs trembling with pain, and began to draw his magick back into his palms, retracting it from the bond, feeling what would be an overwhelming amount to anyone else slip back up into his chest. Tooru began to gasp, fighting to keep his magick from finishing the tie, because, because Matsukawa wouldn't be able to handle just how much, how much magic Tooru had, it would kill him, -and began to wheeze, arms collapsing beneath him, chest aflame.

_It can't tie._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly the beginning of the chapter was kinda boring to write so let me know if it needs to be spiced up a little, I just kinda had to intro Toorus clan and relations, but the real fun was the end, and the interactions between the four. our boy's quite stubborn, and is in for a world of hurt, just you wait ;) (im sorry tooru)
> 
> thanks for reading! feel free to point out mistakes, or leave a comment~ thanks for reading!!!
> 
> (my tumblr is @kindacurly if you wanna drop in and yell w me abt headcannons)


	3. thoughts that grip my throat

When Tooru small, he'd wandered. Before him had lay an endless woods, the quiet depth of the ink coloured fjord, the sistered mountains above; he'd wandered. He wonders, now, if it was the simple straying that marked the beginning of his limitless curiosity.

When he was seven, it was the same boundless inquisitiveness that had led him up the old pine near the jagged cliff of the fjord. Still a child, and with Minx barely a yearling, his sky was a sight he'd yet to see; a riders sky something so simply unique to them, that the immensity of the experience was staining.

The climb had taken him maybe a minute, the thick of the canopy thinning around him --a birch had scraped his cheek, leaving him with what would be a faint scar. Moments later, he'd broke through the leaves and the branches, the endless horizon before him dizzying; it was the cresting hour, a short period before the sun had fully risen, leaving the sky streaked with hues of orange, red, pink, and purple, with dimming stars speckled about. To Tooru, the boy barely old enough to reach the counter, the sight was quieting; it left him breathless.

Then, the branch he'd been perched on, had given way.

The memory burns behind his eyes, the same stunned blankness he'd felt when he'd plunged towards earth wrapping around his chest.

Behind him, Tooru thinks someone shouts, and he clenches his eyes shut, trying to breath through the overwhelming tide panic. Overwhelming; it's the only way Tooru can think to describe it. It's as if his senses had been shot; ears ringing, skin burning with a strange sensitivity as he fought against his magick writhing inside him, while simultaneously pushing against Mastukawa-samas as well.

A presence burned in the back of his mind, searing his thoughts, pressing against his skull.

He could sense the exact moment a barrier appears between him and the Emperor; he thinks its Tobio's magick creating the protective shield, and it helps somewhat, the blockage between him and his apparent soultie. It's less than a second before Keikos magick joins the barrier, and Tooru lifts his head, cracking his eyes to watch as the Head Seer and Head of the Guard send up their own shields, the magick pulsing violently as they lunged towards their partner.

Yamaguchi appeared in front of him, concern lining his face.

For a moment, there was a fragile stillness between the two groups, and Tooru glanced towards the Emperor, who lay heaving on his back, partially blocked from view by his soulties, Tooru unable to tell if he was conscious. The two were leaning over him worry evident, before Iwaizumi-san jerked to his feet, turning to face the energy barrier, face filled with fury.

Distantly, he watched as Minx raised her hackles, jaw dropping to breath out a low hiss, the Weyr following her lead.

"What the hell was that!" Iwaizumi snarled, stalking closer, seemingly blind to the waring dragons as he reached to draw his sword, "I thought we agreed to meet on peaceful terms to negotiate, and you pull this? You-,"

The Head Seer lunged, quickly grabbing a hold of Iwaizumis cloak. "Iwaizumi, you need to calm down, we don't kno-"

The shorter twisted to face Hanamaki. "Like hell we don't. Even if we didn't, we need to secure the issue right no-"

"Iwaizumi, wait!" The Heir was firm, albeit panicky. "Look at Oikawa-san, he was clearly affec..."

Their voices faded out as the ringing worsened in his ears. A cool hand lifted his chin gently, and gentle amber eyes met his own, Yamaguchi murmuring a spell to him, a soothing sensation smoothing out his oversensitive nerves.

The freckled teen snapped his fingers in front of Tooru, moving them slowly back and forth to draw the elders eyes. "...oru....Tooru, can yo...ear me?"

Oikawa swayed on the spot, struggling to answer while wrestling against his magick, his words slurred. "Mmm good, okyy..."

He watched Yamaguchi's brows furrow, and Tooru frowned, trying again, tongue numb and too big for his mouth. "I'm....good, ...good."

The healers mouth tightened, and he shook glanced over a shoulder, his voice buzzing in the mages ears. "Keik....ayama....he's pretty....of it."

Feeling a wave of nausea surge through him, he grabbed the youngers shoulder, and clenched his teeth, trying to piece together the words. Again, Yamaguchi gestured unsurely, so he tried again, voice breaking. "Don lettit tie, don't lettit tie don't tie, don't..."

The edge of his visioned darkened, body slumping forwards, and his eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

When Tooru floats to consciousness, he simply lays there, exhausted. An ache passes along the length of his body, seeming to settle heavy in his limbs, leaving a small pounding in his skull. Around him, the fabric is soft, and he can tell someone did a quick braid of his hair, the length of it spilling onto the pillow behind him.

There's voices, humming like bees somewhere around him, but he can sense the protection spells circling him, the familiar magick of Keiko and Kagayama lying heavy on his chest, pressing and twisting, wrapping Tooru's in a tightly bound covering. He pushed against their magick gently with his own, prodding, and the binding grew tighter.

It was Keikos voice, booming like thunder that finally nudged him to awareness. "As much as I understand Hanamki-dono would prefer to see him, Oikawa is not of your rule. We wish to keep them separate, lest anymore _accidents_ ," there was a sneer in her voice, and Tooru felt a sliver of gratitude slip through him. "And we would appreciate it if you could leave us; my brother is still injured, and you're certainly not helping."

"Oikawa-san, we are well aware of your wishes, however,"

Her voice grew sharper still, and he could feel her magick pulse with a rising frustration. "Oh, are you simply unable to comprehend them, then? Would you like me to simplify our request?"

He zoned out for a moment, a sudden flood of worry squeezing him at the thought of the Emperor. He didn't know if he was okay. They weren't saying if he was okay.

A door creaked open, calling his attention, and there was a near silent brush of footsteps before a smooth voice intervened. "Shirabu-kun,"

The younger huffed at the name, clearly irritated. "Leave our guests be. There is nothing than cannot be dealt with later."

"Kuroo-san, I-"

The others voice was clipped. "Were you not dismissed?"

There was a pregnant pause, before a flurry of footsteps exited the room, and Oikawa's thoughts faded yet again.

 

The room was dim, with arching shadows and spills of moonlight when Tooru woke again, but even in the darkness, he could tell it was the royal infirmary. Great patterned windows crowned the stone walls, the stained glass of the sides creating a mosaic within the extensive room, and he rubbed at his face roughly, chasing away the sleep. The brunette pushed himself upwards, sheets spilling into his lap, and glanced around the faintly lit room. A sliver of pain raced up his left arm, and he hissed, glancing towards the offending limb, only to pause.

It was if he'd been burned; a ribbon of angry red skin crawled up his arm, the skin tightening painfully when he tried to move; it was a magick burn, one he knew wouldn't fade. Tooru closed his eyes, unable to look at the marker of a broken soultie, and felt his chest _burn_.

It wasn't fair.

With a sigh, he pushed a hand through a section of loose hair, feeling his magick heavy in his chest; Keiko and Kagayama must of unbound it sometime earlier.

He didn't know if it was a good thing the pull of the soubound had disappeared.

Along with thoughts of his soulbond, the Emperor worried his chest. Oikawa still didn't know if he was okay. He must've been alive, because he was sure that the Heir of Guard would've likely gotten rid of them by now if he hadn't been.

A small snore broke through the silence, the sound piercing Tooru's stupor, and he peered sideways at the lump on his neighboring cot; a string of drool hung from his cousins face, and the elder wrinkled his nose. Past his cousin, their healer, Yamaguchi lay star-spread, an occasional snort announcing his presence, his hair a tangled bun on his head. A wave of affection washed through their leader; the two must have been exhausted from the days earlier. Had it been days?

It only took a moment to realize his sister was missing from the group, but that wasn't surprising as it was worrying; his sibling was just as curious as he was, with the same frustrating knack for trouble too.

With a resigned grunt, he pushed himself from the bed, making his way out of the infirmary to track down the younger.

A mirror to the outside of the castle, the inside was beautiful; shimmering purpled and turquoise draperies hung from smooth walls, along with widespread windows, the asset casting silver light into the darkness of the halls. An occasional suit of amour stood proud in the corners, the selection ranging from traditional sparing wraps to dragon-scale armour; a sight that managed to leave our a sour taste in the riders mouth.

He'd paused to catch his breath at at an aging map, ribs ablaze, annoyed at fact that he'd most likely bruised them when he and Mastukawa were thrown apart, and simply scanned the piece curiously; it looked like an former warlords battle plan. Intricate, but destructive.

"Oikawa-san?" Tooru jerked around, a startled burst of magic slipping from him, creating a barrier between the two. The Mage hid a wince, ribs twinging.

Hanamaki stood across from him, looking anything but aggressive. The Seer's lips seemed to twitch in the ghost of smile, and he turned his palms outwards. "Easily spooked?"

Tooru suppressed a flush; he'd forgotten to change out of his nightwear before his search, clad in only a loose fitting shirt, and billowing pants, the fabric bunching at the ankles, and now he was talking to one of the three Heirs after throwing a barrier in his lovely face. He dropped the shield, dipping his head in a slight bow. "My apologies, Hanamaki-domo." 

Hanamaki shook his head, "It's no issue, really. I did come up on you, after all."

"I suppose I just don't have a thing for being watched." Tooru gave a thin smile.

Hanamaki hummed, smirking patronizingly, eyes dipping in an obvious once over. "That's a shame, we could've had real fun with that."

Tooru raised his eyebrows, a surprised blush slipping on his face alongside a small grin. His response probably wasn't as smoothly delivered as he'd like to think. "I dunno, that soldier of yours seems pretty keen on me and my distance. A true shame."

"Agreed." The heir moved to lean against a wall, a window ahead casting his face in a white glow. "Might I ask what you're doing up so late, and in such attire?"

His voice was teasing, anything from what the brunette would've expected from the accident with Toor- Hanamaki's, soultie.

Despite the playful intent of the jibe, Oikawa stiffened, the implications of the situation setting in. "Ah, I'm just looking for my sister. She tends to get restless at night. My intentions weren't to sneak around, especially since our introductions were delayed. Again, my apologies."

"Oh, of course." The Seer watched him curiously, as if not expecting the suddenly formal answer.

There was a beat of silence, Oikawa thumbing the newly raised skin of the scar, feeling it burn under the skin of his thumb.

"Oikawa-san," The rubbing motion seemed to draw Hanamaki's eyes, a flash of something passing through them. "About Issei,"

It took a moment to place the name, but when he did, Tooru's chest pulsed dully at the casual intimacy of his first name. Then, his eyes widened in surprise- first names were never given lightly; all it took to set a curse was a persons full name. It was for that reason, people only shared their last.

"He's my soultie, as well as Haijm-"

"It's fine, Hanamaki-domo," The brunet cut him off, a panic underlying his words. "I understand, I won't interfere with your relationship."

Hanamakis eyed widened, then he frowned. "That's not what-,"

An uncharacteristic nervousness pulsing through his veins, Oikawa bowed in a sudden dip, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. He interrupted again. "It's quite alright. Of course."

 _He_ _couldn't know their names, why would he give me their names, he couldn't because then_ she  _could and-_

"Oh."

There was a another pause between the pair.

Tooru straightened, and steeled himself for a moment, continuing. "Of course, I understand. I just." His voice was suddenly much weaker when he added, hoping it seemed like an afterthought, "I just want to know if he's alright."

The Seer was quiet. "...Yeah. He's awake. Talking, even."

Tooru nodded.

Hanamaki stared at him, as if deciding something, before he pushed off the wall, reaching to brush Tooru's shoulder with a kind of uncertainty Tooru couldn't name. "Oikawa-san-,"

"I'm fine," the brunette answered quickly, jerking away from the approaching touch, "I should probably find my sister. Goodnight, Hanamaki-dono."

The strawberry-blonde stared, brows furrowed, and watched him disappear into the dimness of the corridor.

 

He finds his sister minutes later, curled up on the cushioned bench of a window in what he thinks is the east wing, skimming through a book of older runes that he knows for a fact they didn't bring with them. With a small sigh, he lifted her legs, dropping them onto his lap, joining her in her nightly outing.

She glanced up, watching him settle, before speaking. "It's good to see you up. How're you feeling?"

He met her gaze, and smiled gently. "Better. You should be asleep though."

"Shouldn't you?"

"Nope, I'm the oldest. I've also been sleeping for the past, what, two days?"

She shrugged. "Three. And you're only a year and a half older."

Tooru snorted.

"Plus, I couldn't sleep. Everything been a bit tense since the...incident with you and Matsukawa-sama."

"Oh." He paused, the ache in his chest pulsing dully. His own feelings aside, he sometimes forgot that his sister was still just a kid. That, most of them were.

He blew out a breath. "The allocation is still in effect, though?" 

She nodded.

It was relieving, he guessed. It would've been a nightmare if it hadn't, months of careful planning down the drain, and any hopes of an alliance gone as well.

Keiko watched him, confusion evident on her face. "Yeah, if all goes well, we'll discuss the issues to tackle and how to start tomorrow. And they'll probably wish to discuss what happened. But, Ni-san,"

His sister closed her book, scooting into a more upright position. "What did happen with you and the Emperor?"

He pulled his lower lip into his mouth wondering if he should even explain, stomach aching. "I...Do you remember when we first learned to influence each others magic?"

She frowned at the change in topic, but nodded.

"Because of my...ability, the sheer amount of it, it completely overwhelmed you and Tobio, both? Like, almost to the point of pain?"

"It felt like my chest was going to explode." Her was soft.

"A soulbond would've completely drowned them in the exchange of magick. You saw what it did to him, and that was only seconds after we touched. Ha, I touched him and we were thrown apart with the force of it. It wouldn't be fair, especially to his other ties."

Outside, coyotes howled in the distance, and the younger shook her head. "You know as well as I do that his ties are likely yours as well. You could've made it work, Ni-san, so why aren't you even going to try?"

He frowned, and forced an sharper tone in place of his aching chest. "You don't get to tell me what could've worked. Maybe Matsukawa-sama was my soultie but he isn't anymore, and neither are the others."

"Why won't you just tell me? Does it have to do with that thing with mum?"

"Keiko-kun." His tone was biting. "We aren't talking about that."

"Tooru-"

He shot her a glare. "Let it go. It doesn't matter, and if everything's still alright in the agreement, then you don't have anything to worry about, so we're going back to sleep. And if you want to talk answers, where'd you get that book from?"

When she ignored him, he snatched her book, dog-earing the page with a slip of his finger, and tucked it under his arm. "Come on, get off." He shoved at her legs gently.

Her lips were tilted in a frustrated pinch, and she gave him a small scowl, but the younger scooted off nonetheless, stretching upwards. He followed her up, and the pair headed back to the infirmary. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i suddenly feel the branch ~give way~
> 
> I'm sorry i had to throw in the reference, DEH fans lemme know if u caught it ;)
> 
> Anyways, sorry the update took so long, but here it is!! Let me know if u have any suspicions or find any mistakes!  
> Thanks for reading!!!!
> 
> comments are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> (my tumblr is @kindacurly if you wanna drop in and yell w me abt headcannons)


	4. fracture, fragment.

It's a just over a week later when the scale tips again.

After the accident, as it had been reduced too, the agreements progress was achingly slow, a careful uncertainty seeming to hang heavy between the groups. A thin hostility had developed in some, neither group making efforts to hide that fact. 

Despite that, Tooru had said to his sister, they had come with a distinct purpose, one not easily forgotten. So, Tooru never having been one to give up on a goal, had pushed. He pushed, worked, and pestered until they'd gotten what little willingness they'd had in the beginning, to kindle back to life.

It'd taken hours of uncomfortable tension and verbal clashes, the sparks of tension nearly visible between the groups. Mastukawa, who he'd been steadily avoiding since the accident, and who'd made no effort to seek him out either, was seated in the center of the three Heirs, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki at his sides. The arm with his soulties was wrapped in bandages, a strong smelling salve underneath. The three crowned the semi-circular table, other governing personal filing out the sides, leaving the clan members directly across from the Heirs.

Iwaizumi, aided with multiple high ranking officials had driven, what Oikawa had observed with pursed lips, was a thinly veiled opposition. Every agreement they seemed to meet upon, whether it be safety, what information they'd be exchanging, or even food selection, had been met with spear-sharp criticism.

_"A pleasure, Iwaizumi-dono." His voice was saccharine sweet._

_Iwaizumi, from across the hall, in passing, simply glared. "The pleasures all mine."_

Yet, Hanamaki seemed just as adamant to meet Iwaizumi's critics with answers of his own, striving for an end Oikawa didn't necessarily understand. The Seer was still surprisingly amiable (much to Iwaizumi's apparent regret) after the strangeness of the two's late night meeting. He'd even made efforts pursue the brunette, appearing whenever Tooru had a free moment, much to the stress of the mage. 

_"So, Oikawa-san. Whats the deal with you and that cousin of yours?"_

_The brunette sat perched on the stable fence, Hanamaki relaxed beside him._

_Tooru laughed. "Nothing, really. If I'm honest he's more like a little brother. Sometimes he even slips and calls me ni-san."_

_Hanamaki hummed, tilting his head. "You guys have some sort of weird tension going, though."_

_"Ew!" Tooru recoiled, miming a gag. "That's disgusting. He's just. It's just, one day he's going to surpass me, and it's going to suck. I still want him to do well, though, I mean, he's like my little brother. So...I teach him."_

_"Reluctantly, but not?" Hanamaki finished for him, voice questioning._

_"Hmm. Yeah."_

_There was a beat of silence._

_"Hey, Oikawa-san?"_

_The mage, watching the younger dragons rolling playfully in the sun ahead of them, only let out a questioning hum._

_"I don't think he's going to surpass you."_

In the end, it was the Emperor himself who seemed to play tie-breaker, quietly acting to pull the two groups together, not adding much of his own input into the squabble. It was with a strangely indifferent face, one that for once, the Mage couldn't seem to read, that they reached their conclusion.

_The kitchen was quiet besides the gentle crackle of a low burning fire, the light casting dancing shadows across the grey of the stones. It smelled of ginger and cinnamon, and Oikawa wondered if they burned an incense to get the lingering scent._

_He shuffled to the communal pantry, and began to dig, the promise of banana walnut muffins urging him forward. He found them on a baking rack, and satisfied, he stuffed one in his face, before grabbing three more for his clanmates._

_He turned to leave, only to come face to face with the Emperor, Mastukawa raising his eyebrows at the mage, the two standing nearly nose to nose._

_"Ah," Tooru began rather awkwardly, mouth stuffed with muffin. "Mastukawa-sama. How good to see you."_

_The taller looked a him for a moment, really looked at him, before closing his eyes and glancing away, stepping back to let Tooru pass. "Yeah. Likewise."_

 

A conclusion which brought them to the present; the first trail of the exchange. 

Tooru exhaled in a hiss, ducking under the quick flash of a fist, watching as the young guards face twisted in frustration; they'd been at this for minutes, elder seeming to disappear in the face of every attempted blow.

It had been agreed that simple sparring styles would be a good place to begin.

Again, the young guard swiped towards him. He'd faked a left punch, kicking out his leg to pull at Tooru's, which, the Mage had to admit, was a decent move, then grunted in frustration. The older had ducked, grabbing at the ankle of the lanky guard, and twisted it with a pull, knocking him off balance.  

Tooru hooked the back of the guards remaining leg, watching his knee buckle, a surprised _oof_ punctuating his fall. In a final move, Tooru pinned the guard, watching his silvery hair flop in his eyes. 

The younger tensed in the position, testing Tooru's hold with a slight struggle, before relaxing into the position with a disappointed sigh. 

Oikawa snorted, a cocky amusement colouring his face. "You yield?"

There was a pouted huff. "Yes, I yield."

Tooru released the younger, and pushed himself to his feet, watching as the other followed suit, stretching away the tightness of the hold. The kid truly was a monstrous height, at least four inches taller than Oikawa himself, and once he learned to manage his lankiness, he'd be a force to be reckoned with.

The circle surrounding the pair gave a small clap, the guard turning to join the girl who'd Oikawa had wrestled minutes earlier after a quick bow, until a hand fell on his shoulder.

The boy glanced at Tooru over his shoulder, confusion and a small bit of fear clear in his eyes. "Please don't flip me."

Tooru, raised his eyebrows, amusement slipping onto his face. "Easy, Lev-kun. I'm not going to flip you, just give you some critique."

His eyes seemed to light up at the offered counsel, a goofy grin covering the formerly nervous expression. He turned more fully, bowed again in thanks, silver hair flopping into the green of his eyes. "Thank you, Oikawa-senpai!"

The elder hummed, a smirk lining his lips. "Oh no need to thank me, Lev-kun, it's my duty, after all, as your," he paused, shooting a look to where Iwaizumi stood with Hanamaki, and watched Iwaizumi grimace, satisfied. "Senpai~"

Hanamaki made a gagging gesture, and Tooru nearly flipped him off before thinking better of it. Instead, he waved a hand at him flippantly, and watched a grin spread across the Seer's freckled face, sending the brunettes heart skipping.

He cleared his throat, before looking back to Lev. "You're tall. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it. And that's not a bad thing, it can make opponents nervous, or give you an advantage. But that also means there's more of you to hit, or grab." He gestured to the length of the youngers' body, as if emphasizing his point. "You need to learn to balance you limbs with your speed and movements, or else you're just a big ball of flailing legs."

There's a noise of agreement to the left, one of the higher ranked guards nodding in greeting. "It's what we keep telling him, but he can't seem to exactly capture the picture."

"Kuroo-san, what a pleasure. Alisa-san couldn't make it today?" Oikawa said, only slightly sarcastic. 

The other man grinned, and flipped his hair out of his eye absentmindedly. "The pleasures all mine, Great Mage. And no, she just doesn't like to witness... whatever that was."

"Kuroo-san!" came the indignant reply.

With an eye roll, Tooru continued, glancing back to Lev. "Anyways, just keep in mind to keep your arms tighter to your body. That way, it forces you to make more precise movements."

Lev bowed once more, before disappearing into the circle of chatting observers.

Where the two had sparred, there was a fairly sized dirt circle, surrounded by a ring of lean-tos that acted as a windbreaker, with weapons of sorts pined to their walls, and a single band of benches underneath. Above them, there was no roof, only the burn of the mid-summer sun, and the empty sky. 

It was a decent training area, Tooru had to admit.

"What good advice, almost unexpected from you, Oikawa-san." The jeer was playful, Kuroo leaning in to shove him gently with his shoulder. Tooru pushed him away half-hardheartedly.

Oikawa had met Kuroo the day a couple of days after his meeting with Hanamaki. Both had been rather skeptical of the other at first, but they made a decent match. He'd met Alisa Haiba as well, she and Kuroo the head generals serving under Iwaizumi. 

"I know it's hard to believe, with such a lovely face," he began, flipping a braid over his shoulder, "but beneath these pristine features, a seasoned warrior lays in wait."

Kuroo snorted, before turning back to the crowd, calling the seasoned and trainee guards to attention alike. "So, as has been demonstrated by Oikawa-san, the Custis Focis clan have a very refined style of fighting. Can anyone give some key points they noticed?"

A girl with faintly red hair stepped forward, asking permission. Kuroo nodded, and she began hesitantly. "His movements were some of the fastest I've ever seen. He also doesn't make that many of them, like he's waiting to react to the opponent. But when he does, they were really fluid looking. Almost like he was dancing."

Tooru nodded, pleased. Their fighting technique was tightly intertwined with their traditional dances, similar to the other remaining clans.

Keiko and Kageyama look satisfied from where they're standing too; they'd been sparring earlier, and had stayed behind to observe the elders match. The purple of their sashes glinted in the light, colour marking them apart from the rest of the crowd. Tobio's sash was looped in a flower tie, while Keikos own was simply knotted.

A couple others commented some more, practice commenced, guards partnering up while Oikawa observed from the background, occasionally correcting someones posture or attack. It was an hour before the session ended, everyone still mildly clumsy in their movements, which was to be expected; Tooru'd been training for years, and they'd been at it for a day.

There was one shrimp in particular, with a head of bright hair who'd been particularly eager to master it-even if he didn't quite get the idea yet, much to Kagayamas chagrin. It was funny to watch, the two arguing-his cousin wasn't used to being challenged like the ginger was to him.

When the arena had finally cleared after a couple hours, the mage stayed, leaning himself against a post, his eyes shut to bask in the late noon sun. It was quiet-something he hadn't had in awhile.

Suddenly, there was the brush of footsteps, and Oikawa pulled up a barrier, surprised.

From the other side, face malformed as of the shield, stood Hanamaki. He snorted. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

Behind him, the waning hour sun cast streaks of orange and purple across the sky, filling the arena with an amber light.

Oikawa dropped the shield, suddenly seeing the halo of light around the Seers head, a sight that left him slightly breathless. He cleared his throat. "I can't help but agree. What are you doing out here, Hanamaki-san?"

The strawberry-blonde stepped forward, and Tooru shifted nervously with less than a meter between them, the pole behind him cutting off his escape.

Then, the Seer shrugged. "Honestly, I was just hoping for a spar. When your an Heir, nobody really wants to their chances with you. Y'know, the whole scary Iwaizumi-soulbond-thing, kinda puts people off."

"Who would have thought." he replied dryly.

"I know right? Anyways, wanna take your chance, pretty boy?"

Oikawa fluttered his lashes, cooing. "Aww, Makki-chan thinks I'm pretty?"

The other began to retort, but then stopped. "Makki-chan?"

Oikawa bit the inside of his cheek, inwardly cursing. "Ah, sorry. Just kinda slipped out."

Hanamaki shrugged. "It's no big deal, it's just what Iss-Masukawa and Iwaizumi sometimes call me."

"Ah...Makki- _chan_?"

He laughed. "No, they're not really the types. Well, maybe Mastukawa."

Tooru hummed.

There was an awkward silence after the mention of the other Heirs. It was a topic that Oikawa visibly tried to avoid, an unspoken agreement to avert.

"Well," The Seer stepped back. "How about that spar?"

It was an obvious attempt to save their conversation, but Oikawa shook his head. "I'm okay, the whole scary-Iwaizumi thing _is_ kind off off-putting."

If he was honest, he just didn't want to chance touching the Heir. He couldn't. But his excuse was painfully obvious as well.

And Hanamaki saw right through it.

"Oikawa," His voice was quiet. "We can't just ignore it." 

Tooru shook his head. "Don't."

"No, you don't. I thought you were nervous, especially after what happened with Issei, and that's fine, but we can't pretend that nothings happened."

"Well, that's too bad for us then."

Thin brows were furrowed, eyes lost. "Why can't we talk about it? Whats wrong?"

Oikawa looked at him, brown eyes meeting grey, and for a moment, could  _feel_. Could feel his magic, trying, urging him to get closer, to  _touch._ And god, did it hurt. The could have been. The almost bond. If Oikawa was anyone else, if he didn't have the threat of  _her_ over him like a dark cloud. Hanging over them as well.

He tore his gaze away, and moved to go around him without a word, but Hanamaki cut him off. 

"Please, Oikawa. Why won't you even try?" His voice cracked on his name. 

He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to sever whatever chance they had at even a friendship, but what other option was there?

So, he jerked towards him, eyes narrowed in an annoyance he didn't feel. "Can't you see that maybe I just don't want you guys? Maybe I don't really care enough to want in? God, it's not that difficult to understand. I've been trying to be nice about it but you don't really seem to get it."

The Seer recoiled, but he continued, pushing forward with a fabricated malice. "My Weyr and I came here to affirm our stance as allies, nothing more."

Dipping his eyes to the ground, he ducked past the Heir, leaving the training center in a storm of hurt and the acid scent of burnt sugar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry for the long update interval, I really don't have an excuse to make.  
> However I still hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> (my tumblr is @kindacurly if you wanna drop in and yell w me abt headcannons)


	5. before we build

_Years before the age of Crown, and Demon alike, there were four clans rested in the far corner of the earth, where snow and sun live side by side._

_Focis, of Hearth, Flumen, of River, Terra, of Earth, and Caeli, of Air._

_Then, with the fall of Demon, rose Crown; the dissolution of the land and it's people in the name of a country they'd been forced to bear, followed._

_Perhaps it was their placement, nestled in the belly of the fjord, but the Clans were never taken, never kneeled._

_Years upon years of uneasy silence followed between the Clans and Crown, until a women of shining potential took the throne- and then instead of silence, there was war._

_Caeli fell in place of its' sisters; and the cycle began anew._

* * *

 

Tears dribbling down his face, thoughts ringing in his ears, Tooru stumbled down the stone passage, supporting himself against the cobbled wall. A trail of blackened stone trailed after his touch, the magick marked stone an aching reminder of everything he was.

He moved his free hand across his face, wiping tears over his flushed skin, a sniffle echoing in the silent halls.

Inside his chest, his magick writhed, twisting and pushing against the cage of his ribs, leaving him gasping in tear-wet heaves. Distantly, he knew he'd have to cast out his magick soon, the pressure nearly beyond what he normally allowed.

_It burned._

Tooru knew, he, that it-it wasn't fair. Wasn't fair that he had to tear it all apart, in the name of a protection he couldn't even swear by. Gods, did he want them. Even goddamn Iwaizumi, he wanted them, everything they were.  _And he didn't even goddamn know them yet._

But he wasn't his own to give. The ivory tooth dangling dully against his throat was a testimony to the thought. The braided leather of the charm dug sharply into the skin of his throat, leaving red indents in it's wake, and Tooru cried harder, digging his fingers under the choker like necklace, trying uselessly to tear it off. 

Nails tearing at pale skin, he pulled until a hacking cough shook his body. Strands of hair clung to his face, caught on the tear damp skin of his cheek.

Finally, he sank onto the floor, the cold of the stone against his back oddly grounding. Trying to steady a shuddering breath, he rubbed his palm under his nose once more, sniffling, and glanced around the vast hall, brown eyes bloodshot. He hadn't explored the entirety of the castle yet, this end included. Silver and green draperies hung over the dark, easternmost windows, golden lamps casting warm light over the rich brown rug. 

Just before where a hallway connected with another, a mural hung heavy, a deep golden bronze framing the four figures, rich colours depicting an age old scene.

Three were staged in varying positions of defense in front of a gaunt figure, a dark cloak billowing around her thin frame. Spiraled horns grew skywards from behind her temples, and the marker of the Heir of Mage stood partially hidden on the throne of the mage-turned-demon. 

It was the scene of the The Defeat of the Demon King, an age old story spanning generations. His grandmother used to tell them it alongside their more traditional ones when he and Keiko had asked.

It was a story from before the formation of the crown, a reign of chaos having gripped the nation in it's hold. Hundreds died or were enslaved when a young mage, gifted with an unusual talent, had become entangled in the dark arts. 

Soon after, the mage lost control, overcome with curses, with pieces of her soul bargained away. It was years before anyone dared to challenge her, her shadow already laying heavy over the expanse of kingdoms, when three had stepped forward, bringing with them the idea of hope. 

Once victorious, the three had gone on to rule the Crown the demon had left behind, electing one as king, and dispersing remaining roles between them. Even though the Heir of Mage was well accepted now, it was years later when the Heir of mage was even considered to be a position. 

Tooru cleared his throat wetly. If only magick and defeat were as simple as the story told. He was so tired.

_Tooru...Tooruuuu..._

He let his head fall backward with a dull thud, eyes burning as he clasped his hands over his ears. Not now, he prayed, the feminine voice cloying in his head. Gods, please not now.

_...Tooru...where're your soulbonds, Tooruuu-_

"Tooru!"

His eyes snapped open, the arching ceiling far above him.

"Tooru-ni, are you alright?" The tongue of his clan surprised him before he realized it was Tobios voice echoing in the silence of the hall. 

He lifted his head to meet his cousins eyes, suddenly seeing the undisguised nerves in his face. Only then, did the pungent scent of rust and burning sugar make itself known.

Around his curled figure, a ring of magick burned stone circled him, his magick leaving blackened designs on the castle surfaces.

He unclenched his fist, not remembering tightening them. His palm stung where his nails had dug into the flesh of his hand.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Tooru answered in latinese, forcing a smile and hoping it wasn't as watery as it felt. 

The younger stepped closer, face unsure. "Is it..." He paused uncomfortably. "Her again?"

Tooru let out a deep sighed, a sudden exhaustion hanging from his frame. "No. I'm okay, Tobio-kun."

Tobio stared, blue eyes unusually perceptive. "I just know it can get bad when, um, you're upset..." He trailed off. "Plus, Hanamaki-domo was upset when I passed him earlier, and I could sense your magick freaking out. Did something happen?"

Tooru remained silent, only picked at the leather of his glove, watching the material shimmer faintly. They were meant to keep his palms from searing from the power of his gift. 

Similar to his cousin, Tooru's creation of magick was alarmingly high; it was just something his body did naturally, and while many deemed it a gift, it acted like a curse, burning his hands and lashing out when he hadn't expelled enough. It had gotten worse at he'd gotten older and while he could maintain more than Tobio, he also needed to use it more often.

"I promise I'm okay. Here," The older shoved his gloved hand in the direction of the younger. "Help me up?"

Tobio pulled his cousin to his feet, then into a unexpected hug. Tooru froze, for a moment, before relaxing, and letting himself be hugged, feeling the warmth of the younger against him.

"You can talk, to us, I mean."

Tooru closed his eyes.

 

While the pair walked to the rooming halls, Tooru ran through things in his mind to lighten the heavy mood, suddenly remembering his cousins new acquaintance.

"So," He began, forcing cheer into his voice. "What's up with you and the shrimp?"

A blush tipped the youngers' ears. "Hinata? He's an idiot."

The mage tugged the others fishtail braid. "So that _wasn't_ flirting today?"

"Tooru-san!" Tobio swatted his hand away, his face growing scarlet. "I was trying to teach him, nothing else. Not to mention his coordination is awful!"

"I'm sure." His reply was tart. 

Kageyama blushed harder, speeding his steps, but Tooru kept pace easily. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you two?"

Tobio sent him a pleading look. "Toour-san-"

"Ooo," Tooru sang, a smirk growing on his face. "Have you touched him yet?"

His cousin smacked his arm, face a cherry hue. "Do you think I'm a complete dumbass?"

Tooru grinned at him, an easy lull in the conversation filling the air.

The pair turned the final hallway to the rooming wing, when Tobio spoke, voice soft. "I wouldn't have touched him, y'know."

"Hmm?" Tooru glanced at him. 

"I wouldn't want to bring him into this. Family comes before that. The demon that you've been promised to n'stuff."

The olders throat seemed to tighten at the realization. "Oh. You can't let that direct you, Tobs."

"Like you do? Tooru-nii, do you think we haven't noticed you and the heirs?"

Tooru flinched, biting back harsher words. "It's my curse, not yours. What I do with that in mind is always going to be a risk, but that a risk that doesn't have to apply you."

The youngers voice was quiet but when he met Toorus gaze, eyes unreadable. "We walk together, not alone."

There was silence for a few empty moments, before the cousins reached their rooming door. 

Tobio, about to open the door, turned at the sound of his cousins voice. 

"I'm going to go for a walk. I'll be fine, I swear." He smiled weakly, trying to lighten the mood. 

The younger said nothing, only stared at him with an emotion Tooru couldn't describe. "Natus ex focis _._ " 

Tooru swallowed, mouth dry. "Nos faciemus reditus _._ "

Tobio nodded, eyes young and trusting and everything that Tooru could take from him, before disappearing into the spill of amber slipping from their room as he opened the door.

Tooru left for the west tower, despite it being across the length of the castle. He wanted the cold of fresh air, the star-speckled sky. Wanted it to burn his lungs, and stain his throat. To be alone, because it hurt.

It was quiet, as he made his way to the tower, the occasional lamplight meshing with the watercolour glow of the dying sunset through the great windows. He summoned a simple ball of light to cut through the shadows, the glow casting streams of silver light on the walls. The vibrant strip of sky was fading quickly, and soon it would simply be dark, the moon tucked away in a new cycle.

His grandmother never liked empty sky.

He was about half-way to the base of the tower when a voice cut through the darkness, deep and laced with spite.

"So, how long do you think you can keep this up?"

Tooru flinched, barely refraining from tensing. "Is this how you always approach late night acquaintances? Because I must say, your technique needs work."

Tooru turned, greeting the shorter as he neared with a forced smile. Iwaizumi observed his movements, eyes sharp in the silvery light, a glare resting on his face. "Can you drop the facade for even a minute, you asshole?"

"I bet you'd love that," The mage faked a laugh, voice tense.  _Love to see the absolute mess underneath._

"Yeah, believe me, I'd really like to know why the hell you took your shit out on Makki, of all people. He's nothing but kind to you, despite having every reason not to be. And you know why?"

Tooru didn't respond, suddenly stunned. The orb in his hand flickered, it's glow dimming.

He didn't.

"Because he's holding on to whatever slim hope he had for you to fix the bond you ruined."

"Ruined?" Tooru snorted a laugh, recovering and ignoring his aching chest. "There was nothing there to ruin, only some makeshift connection that he couldn't let go of. It wasn't even him it happened to!"

The growing rage on the Iwaizumis face was plain, and he shook his head. "It might as well have been. What is it, Tooru, that you are  _so_ afraid of? What is-"

"What did you call me?"

Iwaizumi paused, a sneer decorating his lips. "What? Tooru, you mean? Your name?"

He flinched at the mention, a deep panic beginning to bubble in his throat. "Don't call me that."

"It's your name, Tooru, just like mine is Hajime, and Makki's is Taka-"

"Stop it!" He took a stumbling step backwards, suddenly dizzy, hands flying to his ears as he tried to block out the others voice, but Iwaizumi followed, voice growing louder. It rang down the passage, a token to his fury as Tooru fell to the ground.

"You want to know how I know?"

Tooru's eyes burned, and he held back a shuddering breath and shut his eyes, mumbling a  _please don't_. 

"For fucks sake," Iwaizumi ground out, teeth shining white in the light, his aura suffocating. "When you and Mastukawahad your soulbond trigger, it settled. It formed for him. Then, you ripped apart a fucking fully formed soulbond. That's why it took him so long to recover. He took the brunt of it. But, he knows your name, your childhood, and that fucking, _infuriating,_ martyr complex. You know what he doesn't know, though?"

Tooru stared up at him, eyes glassy as the other stood crouched above him, praying for this to be some sick dream, because he didn't know if he could face this reality.

"What you're so fucking keen on protecting us from."

 Tooru began to hiccup, fighting back tears as he sniffled. Then, Tooru met Iwaizumis gaze, his own watering, wishing he could move around him like he did with Hanamaki, but the other had him pinned. He could feel his magick, writhing and urging him to touch. "Get off of me, Iwaizumi."

The General met his protest, voice harsh. "No. Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing-"

"Hajime, what the hell are you doing?" 

The two paused, suddenly noticing the lean figure storming towards them.

Hair astray and circlet gone, the Emperor strode down the passage, voice like thunder. Even without a crown, he radiated regalty, his chin tilted high. From this angle, Tooru could see the limp in his steps, and the scarred flesh of the broken soulbond spiraling up his wrist, a painful reminder amongst the flicker of his others, and he winced, dropping his eyes; Iwaizumi had been right.

The man in question straighten himself slightly, brows furrowed. "Did you happen to see Makki? Or Oikawa himself? It's-He's fucking destroying himself!"

_tick tick tick, the ssssun is setting now_

Tooru shut his eyes and clamped his lip between his teeth, feeling blood well under the harsh grip. An ache bloomed in his temples as he fought a flinch, pushing away the voice echoing in his mind. 

The two continued to bicker, but their speech turned to vague buzzing, the only clarity her echoing voice.

_nowhere to run, nowheerree to gooo...my good, little tooru...just relaxxx_

_relaxxx and let me in...._

His body slumped, finding it easier to just go with her voice. Maybe, he could, he thought.

_ssoo much eassier once you llet go-_

And then, in a sudden sharp flash, emerald burst behind his eyes, searing up his arm and into his chest. He choked on the sudden magick, the sensation familiar but uniquely so, and in a sudden moment of lucidity, he knew it was Iwaizumi. 

He could feel where his hand had grabbed his bicep and shaken, his grip still painfully tight, and the heavy weight of his soulbond atop of him. He pressed back fruitlessly, but he couldn't stop the tide of magick, feeling it curl protectively around his chest and mind, and the weighted presence at the back of his thoughts begin to gather; his own mirrored the action, growing up Iwaizumis arm into his chest, the sensation overwhelming.

But the voice inside his head had stopped, his soulbonds magick blocking out whatever words it had been whispering, and for the first time in along time, her presence was gone, replaced by another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh it kinda feels like things are moving to quickly but then i was like it's chapter 5?? i should have a little action by now
> 
> lemme know what you guys think or if you find any mistake!!
> 
> thanks for reading and comments are really appreciated!


	6. foundation

_Shit_ , is the first conscious thought that he can process. 

 _Ouch_ , is the second.

There's a dull pulsing throughout his body, a mirror to the last time he'd woken from such an ordeal; it had only been two weeks since it'd occurred, after all. Tooru lifted an arm experimentally, feeling it burn, and bit his tongue; it was exactly like last time. He would snort at the irony, but he couldn't seem to find it in him. 

Yet, with the appearance of the ache, another had disappeared; the painful pressure usually used to muffle  _her_ was gone, and in it's place, Iwaizumi. He could feel him, the weight of his bond, and his magick passing through it.

It was quiet, his presence, almost calming- prompting memories of forests, and lakes, and late night air so fresh is burned; of home. 

It couldn't last.

He's in a bed, he thinks, but unlike the thin sheets of the Royal Infirmary, silk and fur cushion his body, almost lulling him back to sleep; it's when he hears the sharp tones of angry voices that he's jerked back to wakefulness, suddenly realizing what woke him.

_"I don't know what you want me to say, 'Hiro."_

The voices were muffled, but if he strained he could make out the tail end of their conversation, and in an effort to hear more clearly, he pushed himself upright, silk spilling into his lap. He winced, but ignored the dull pain.

_"Well, I don't know how you can act like he hasn't hurt you, or, or Hajime, or me for fu-"_

A snore broke though the silence of the room, and Tooru flinched, suddenly noticing the other presence in the massive bed, and he shrieked, scrambling sideways, limbs catching in the sheets, sending him tumbling over the edge of the plush mattress. His magick sparked uselessly in his palms as he tried to catch himself, and he hissed, suddenly noticing the lack of his gloves.

He hit the ground with a thud, his body immediately protesting hitting it and movement in general, and he groaned, face pressed against the cool stone floor. 

 _Why_ , he thought despairingly. 

He laid there for a moment, simply wallowing in self pity, before wriggling slightly, trying to get his stinging palms beneath him as a stabilizer.

Across the room, he could hear the creak of an opening door, the motion hidden from his current point of view (the floor). There was the sound of two pairs of padding feet, a slamming door, one he thinks lead to the hall, and then a frustrated sigh.

Again, the brush of feet against stone, and the hiss of magick.

Then, a muffled snort broke the tense quiet. "Oikawa-san?"

His face burning, he cleared his throat. "Yes, Matsukawa-sama?"

There was a beat of silence while the emperor circled to where he was entangled in the expensive sheets, and surveyed the mess. He opened his mouth, then looked like he thought better of it, and crouched next to Tooru. Silently, he maneuvered the sheets from the others limbs with a careful grace. Once the mage was free, he pushed himself upwards, and muttered a quick thanks, unable to look his broken soulbond in the eyes.

A pregnant pause settled between the two, Iwaizumis snoring the only noise in the room. Hanamaki, although very clearly there moments earlier, was nowhere to be found, only adding to the silence in his wake.

Somehow, the quiet hurt more from him.

After several more beats of stillness, Matsukawa sank from his crouch and joined Oikawa against the bed, leaving a foot or so between the pair, and Tooru appreciated the act.

"How're you feeling?"

Tooru laughed. "I've been better."

Matsukawa nodded, giving him a small smile. "I can imagine."

"I just hope this doesn't become a pattern," the mage joked, then winced. "Sorry, that was in bad taste."

Mastukawa wiggled slightly, settling further against the bed. "Yeah. At the very least, you didn't break the bond this time."

It was a jab at him, but Tooru knew it was one deserved. 

He didn't mention the fact that the only thing that stopped him was the fact he'd been knocked out. He forced a huffed laugh.

A lull settled between the two. Tooru couldn't seem to look him in the eyes.

"...Can I ask why it was different, for us?"

Tooru stared blankly at the floor, suddenly finding interest in the cobbled pattern. "Why what was different?"

He could practically feel the skepticism from Matsukawa, but the other explained anyways. "Why you broke our bond. Why you reacted like you did with Makki, maybe why your family seems so determined to not tell us anything about the presence that clings to your aura."

Tooru grimaced, but, again, knew he deserved it. Biting a low anxiety, he turned to face him. "You talked to my siblings?"

"There was no other way to find out anything about you, because even if you were conscious, which you weren't, I really don't think you would have told us anything, anyways." His eyebrows were raised. "But that's beside the point, because they didn't tell us much either."

The relief the mage felt from the last statement was intense, if not tinged with confusion. "I thought you all already knew about the... the presence."

Matsukawa shook his head. "Before you, um, ripped our bond, I could feel it. And Hanamaki's been picking up on it for weeks. We just don't know what it is."

"Oh."

Oikawa had forgotten about the Seer's heritage; while also revealing glimpses of possible futures, Seers were sensitive to  _animo_ magick, a type that specialized in influencing, reading, or possession of anothers mind.

The two were quiet again, but Tooru knew there was more to be said.

"How is Iwaizumi-san?" he prodded.

The Emperor gave a small grin thankfully not commenting on his diversion. "Considering this is the longest he's been in a room with you without contemplating murder, pretty good."

Tooru snorted. "A significant accomplishment. In all seriousness, though."

The taller hummed. "From our own bonds, we've been able to tell he's alright. Our healers have said the same."

Tooru shook his head, tracing the newly reddened palm of his hand. "My magick should have overwhelmed him, hurt him, like it did you. It doesn't make sense."

"That's where your family came in. Kagayama-san mentioned magic diversion, when he heard what happened. Keiko-san is diverting a small portion to her, and Kayagama-san said something about not being able to take anymore, so I'm taking another. Our bond still kinda functions, plus I'm already familiar with your magick. Which you have a shit ton of, by the way."

The mage gave a strained laugh. "Yeah, it's a real blessing."

The Emperor frowned at the small bit of tightness in his voice, confusion lighting his eyes. "Oik-"

Tooru continued, ignoring his concern. "I'm sorry to cause such trouble. Once Iwaizumi-san wakes, I'll prioritize separating our bond."

The words caused the Emperor to pause, his brows furrowing. "I'm sorry, you still want to separate it?" He laughed. "Are you being serious?"

"Yeah," Tooru said, pushing an incredulous look. "I mean we both have different responsibilities to different people, things, and it wouldn't work. I mean, you have a kingdom, for Caelums sake, and because of the distance, and-" he began to ramble, every excuse but the truth spilling from the river of his mouth. 

A shadow of frustration lit the others face. "Whatever your afraid of, we can work out, but you're being irrational. If you would just listen-"

"It wouldn't work, there's too many issues," Tooru protested shifting to his knees, and the Emperor responded, his own voice growing in volume as he followed the other upwards.

There was a moment of of rapid overlapping of words, voices growing in the attempt to speak over eachother, before a groan quieted the room.

"Can you both just shut it for a second? My heads' already fuckin' pounding."

Matsukawa froze, his face going blank with surprise. Standing suddenly, he threw himself over to the mound under the sheets, a near silent  _Hajime_ escaping his lips as he made his way to the other. All it took was the rough statement from the Heir of Guards to call the attention of his lover, and then Oikawa was the last thought on his mind. 

It wasn't bitterness, Tooru told himself. He wasn't bitter, at least not in the obvious sense. He didn't want what Iwaizumi had; he wanted to be apart of it.

Separate from that, the relief Tooru'd felt from Iwaizumi waking was immense, even if tinged with being forgotten. He could rest easy knowing that until he could separate the bond, the others would divert his magick, even if he disliked exposing them to her.

But that was a whole other issue.

Tooru followed him to a standing position, watching as the Emperor helped the other into a sitting position, knees spread on either side of his legs. His hands cradled Iwaizumis face, fingers tracing the bloom of a bruise on his cheek, and it was suddenly much to intimate for Tooru to be there. Ignoring an ache that wan't from the formation of the bond, he awkwardly made his way to the door, trying to draw as little attention as possible.

Even if he knew nearly all of the reasoning he'd given Matsukawa was false, it didn't change that Tooru couldn't force his way into their relationship, and the fact she'd ruin them all if he did.

And with that thought in mind, he slipped through the door, and down the hall.

 

He ends up in the stable, hands busy with polish as he worked Minx's equipment. He hand't been able to work with her as much as he would've like in the past weeks, and knew he'd end up paying for it; Minx was as petty as he was. 

The dragon was laying lax at his feet, cyan scales glowing faintly in the shadows of the stables. For a dragon her age, she was smaller than most, Lady, Kagayamas dragon, towering over her with nearly two and a half feet, despite being two years younger. It was fine, though; that just meant she was more agile than most. It was because of her size that they'd developed such a signature flight style.

He was finishing off the polish on her side buckle when she finally huffed, and stretched upwards, mimicking a catlike grace, and Tooru paused to watch her. The fjord dragons were built differently than ones further south-west; they were slim, built lithe and muscled, with a set oft tri-wings decorating their backs. The set in the front larger, and more powerful than the smaller stabilizing and directional ones behind them.

Then, she nuzzled against him, and snatched the harness piece from his hands, nearly knocking him off balance. 

"Minx, you ass," he cursed, stumbling, and narrowed his eyes at the dragon. 

She watched him unapologeticaly, dropping the harness with a clatter and instead gripped his shirt between ivory teeth. She began to tug, dragging him out through the stable doors, seemingly enjoying his lack of balance, before she crouched, staring at him with a presence that screamed  _try me_.

He groaned, pushing a gloved hand through the loose pieces that had fallen from his low pony-tail. He'd stopped by his room and gathered his gloves, a half-sleeved black shirt, and billowing pants that tightened at the ankles before coming; he'd had to sneak through the castle in undergarments that weren't his to begin with, and he wasn't eager to relive the experience.

"Come on, you know I can't right now. I have a meeting with Kimura-san later about customs and such, and I just..."

The deep green of Iwaizumis bond pulsed from where it wound around his arm, twisting with the scarred flesh of Matsukawas. It sent goosebumps up his bicep. 

He watched it move and sway around the broken bond, almost at if the magick was confused to why it's partner lay dormant.

He knew Kimura-san hated when people missed her meetings. 

He really shouldn't.

"Oh well," he breathed, and ran his fingers over the claw of her wing.

Mounting the cyan dragon, she spread her wings, and shook them, body bare of harness and reins alike. The only things showcased were the traditional markings from their tribe, and the thin silver chains decorating her horns and dangling gently from her face. The silver was custom for formal situations, and though they could create complications in battle, they weren't overly obtrusive for regular flight. 

Then, she took two strides, beat her wings, and they were in the air. Higher, and higher they climbed, until the castle was nothing but a smudge beneath them, and then Minx tilted sideways, circling the grounds widely as she surveyed the surrounding area. 

To the east, the town of Caliam spread through the hills overlooking the continental river, hundreds of meters of bridge spanning the gap between the two sides, before the town picked up on the other end. The city blossomed with colour, buildings spiraling, and markets bustling with people, and Tooru could see why it was renowned as it was; it was breathtaking.

Tooru released his grip on the stabilizing spikes on her back, and leaned backwards, arms out on either side. The wind whistled past him, but he inhaled as deeply as he could, the chill of the fresh air burning his lungs in the best way. Whistling to get her attention, he stood carefully into a crouch, and smiled.

He clicked lightly to her twice, and then, Minx flipped herself upside down. Tooru fell from her back into the open air, laughing gleefully as he starfished through the air, the wind stealing his voice.

Minx fell beside him, though she torpedoed instead of free falling, all three sets of wings tucked against her sides, a second set of clear eyelids closed against the wind. There was nothing but sky, and the cold burn of the wind, and he was unafraid to admit he was a bit of a junkie.

It took the pressure from his chest, leaving him weightless- it's what being a rider was to him.

Soon, she clicked, and he twisted to match her position as she turned her back to him, and he tucked himself back against her ridges, waiting for her to pull up from the nosedive. 

The moment she opened her wings, they jerked upwards, spiraling through the sky with a childish delight. Tooru whooped, a grin staining his face.

Nothing could touch him up here.

Then, a dark blur darted past him, followed by another on his other side, and Tooru flipped them off half-halfheartedly. Again, the smaller of the two passed by him, and he watched as Pimm and Keiko dipped into nosedive, also lacking proper equipment. She had swiped goggles, though, and soon a pair came hurtling towards him when she'd climbed to his height again. 

Slipping them on, he hoped she could see the gestured thank you.

Kagayama simply glided above them to the left of Tooru, a smaller grin on his face, eyes closed. The black of his hair whipped around him in a dark halo, strands tangling in the current, giving him the illusion of something darker than he was.

He was letting Lady guide him, uncaring of where their destination.

Tooru leaned towards him, bumping Lady gently with a wing, and watched the dragon narrow her eyes; for a dragon as young as she was, she had the temperament of a elder. It's what made her so enjoyable to poke.

The blue dragon gave a warning hiss, and muffling his laughter, Tooru did it again. Lady twisted towards them in a sudden jerk, snapping, and Minx dodged with a dip, enjoying the sudden chase. 

He could practically hear Kagayamas annoyance, the younger trying to pull Lady from her prey without luck, righting himself after nearly being thrown from her back. In a sudden turn, Minx dipped into a somersault type roll, coming up behind Lady, and moving desperately to escape her reach . 

The larger dragon turned instead of rolling, twisting to face them with outstretched wigs, the natural eyelike patterns on the underside of her wings making her seem much larger than she actually was. 

Tooru whistled, nudging with his feet, and Minx tipped backwards, letting herself fall with an easy sureness, and if dragons could sneer, he's pretty sure Minx would already be doing it.

Keikos ringing laughs chased them down.

 

_They were only kids, afterall._

 

Soon the three had made it to the edge of a cliff overhanging the lake-like river, the dragons perched on varying levels of stone ridges, or whatever provided enough grip. It was the river they'd tracked from the fjord to the kingdom, earning it's continental title for a reason. From where they were sat, an island rested small and lush, breaking through the center of the water.

Tooru stared at it, wondering. "Oi, Tobio. What do you think of that?"

The younger broke off from his conversation with Keiko. "Of what?"

Keiko turned, long hair falling in a curtain around her shoulders, and scanned the water. She hummed in understanding.

"The island-thing. For a magic expulsion, I'm guessing," Keiko jerked her chin towards the island. "It'd be perfect, if you can link with it."

"Oh, yeah." Kagayama nodded. "It'd be fine."

 

He knew he couldn't tell them. Couldn't tell his soulbonds, or siblings, or anyone, because if they knew, he wouldn't be able to finish what he'd been intend for. But, that was okay; they'd be ready when it happened. Even if they didn't know they were. 

 

"But Tooru," Keiko turned to him, "No more diversions. You need to tell us what's going on."

His arm burned, and he smiled. "I know. I...I think I'm gunna try."

(lie.)

 

_Caught web, one never theirs to command,_

 

Far west, among the edges of the kingdom, a woman sat still, watching raindrop after raindrop shatter against the depth of fall borne pools. The storm would roll to the east, soon.

Maybe it could carry a message, she thought.

 

_But he was never his own, to begin with._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy yeah I don`t really have an excuse for the long absence but enjoy!!  
> as alwasy if you see any mistakes, or think it`s moving to fast let me know !! my tumblr is @kindacurly is yall wanna yell at me


	7. tempestas

Tooru wasn't a fool. He wasn't an optimist, either.

He was fully aware that his run in with Iwaizumi had done nothing but buy him time, at the cost of everyone elses safety. 

And he also knew the measures which had to be taken to amend that.

* * *

Minx clicked at him, her gentle curiosity a stark contrast to the bitter turn of his thoughts. A dull smile gracing his lips, he whistled shortly, soothing his dragons unease.

She made another unhappy noise, but shook out her wings anyways, and blew out a stream of hot air as a kind of olive branch. Tooru shuddered gratefully as it washed over him, suddenly filled with a shallow sadness.

He knew she could sense it, in whatever the phrase; his anxiety, or the presence itself; they'd both grown stronger. Knowing changed nothing though; Minx was as powerless as Tooru to change the course he'd already been set on.

A chill had taken to the air, a breeze carrying the sweetened scent of ozone pushing timidly against them. The rider glanced upwards, and took note of the darkening clouds with a simple indifference; he'd flown in worse.

His earlier companions were nowhere in sight, and he was suddenly grateful Keiko and Tobio had stayed at the town in search of a place to eat. 

A droplet of rain shattered against his eye, and he shut them reflexively, reaching to wipe it when the first boom of thunder crashed around them.

He stiffened, lights flickering behind his eyes, and suddenly, he was rocking in someones arms.

_There was a soft light all around the room, a crib a little below the arms that cradled him rhythmically. The woman's face was unfocused, shifting, in the way that dreams did, and he reached upwards giggling, tugging a strand of silvery hair; the colour shimmered like water, strange and entertaining to the babe that he was._

_Is this a memory?_

_The walls were a deep brown, with wide set windows casting early spring light into the room, illuminating the...butterflies lining his walls._

_Maybe a dozen hung gently from the wood, wings fluttering_ _slowly, and he heard himself giggle, little hands reaching for something just out of his grasp._

_Oikawa knew this room; it was his own back in the village. Though, he supposed he'd never seen the butterfly's before._

_Idly, he wondered if the winged bugs were the woman's doing._

_Her hands were soft, and she was bouncing him gently when her scent washed over him; the awful sweetened smell of decay suddenly registering. The babe fussed, wriggling suddenly in her arms._

_His wail echoing around the small room, she shushed him gently, voice like honey. "Shhh, my little Tooru, just relax..."_

_He could feel the sharp of her nails against his back._

_Then, another women with the eyes of his sister burst in the room with a scream. "Get away from him!"_

_The brunette moved, quicker than he could see, and then there was a powerful pulse of magic, he_ knows _that magick-_

He was falling-hurtling, actually, towards the earth. The air whistled by his ears in a deafening howl, body tumbling wildly through the air, his limbs flailing. He fingertips were numb, and a wave of sickening panic washed over him.

He couldn't move his body.

Wind stealing his breath, he scanned desperately for Minx, but her dark form was lost in the torrents of rain. There was nothing but black sky and shatters of lighting. Wet hair clung to his face and tongue and he spit, desperately trying to gain a sense of control.

When did the storm get this bad?

He couldn't even see how close he was to the ground, how soon he would be every riders nightmare.

Desperately, Tooru tried again. _"Minx!"_

Another crack of lighting lit the sky, and suddenly there was a form torpedoing towards his limp body, eyes glowing like amber in the storm. She righted herself with a jerked, wings flaring, hind legs kicking out and grabbing him from the air.

His body was ripped from gravity, paralyzed and twitching, nausea deep in his stomach. There should have been relief, or a sudden ability to breath but if anything, it made it worse. His breath wouldn't come, the panic so deep it felt like his ribs were being crushed.

Then his arm burned, his soulbond snaking it's way through up his arm and into his chest, loosening the grip of the panic, and slowly, the hold the memory had on him faded, Iwaizumis magick in warm in it's place. His presence was a heavy comfort, all encompassing, and Tooru let himself, for once, soak in the feeling of his bond.

Minxes claws weren't warm, but they were suddenly familiar, and a better comfort than the blinding rain.

Tooru closed his eyes, a deep tiredness settling in his bones. He didn't know where they were, but Minx would get them home. 

 

It was the clicking and whistling of dragons that brought him to a half awareness. Lightning still crackled around them, but cutting through the light was the lumbering shape of Helianthus, Yamaguchis dragon, and Tooru frowned. 

Everything around him was slow like syrup, dim colours blending, and lighting moving a half-second slow.

What was he doing out here? 

He glanced at the dragon for a moment, and the yellow beast stared back at him with forlorn look in the dark of his eyes. Trying to speak, Oikawa clicked gently, but the noise broke pitifully in his mouth. An ache burst in his throat, and he frowned, feeling his eyes burn.  _Had be been crying?_

It didn't matter, because a moment later the shine of the castle and stables glittered like stars in the darkness, Tooru watching them move closer with a strange numbness, the lights a beacon in a storm. The soultie on his arm pulsed dully with every heartbeat, Iwaizumis aura of concern flowing through the bond and into him.

Dimly, he thought that concern would be a good look on the Heir.

It could have been minutes or seconds, but there was a sudden cease in the rainfall, and the air around them turned warm. Minx dropped him gently, before landing and spreading her wings, creating an umbrella over his limb form. She let out a series of anxious clicks, nudging him with her noise as if to encourage him to move, but he remained slumped on the dirt floor.

"Oikawa-san!" Yamaguchi appeared, ducking under Minx's wings with his lanky form drenched, mouth moving a mile a minute. Oikawa watched him speak, his mind not processing the sentences, ears ringing. As if realizing this, the Healer pinched his lips, throwing Toorus arm over his own shoulders and hauling him further into the warmth of the stable. Minx followed.

Helianthus was the last to enter, his massive form blocking the chill of the wind and the entrance behind them. The dragon snuffled his rider gently, his scales a dull matte yellow in the light, and Yamaguchi shooed him gently, kneeling to deposit Tooru on a stack of squared hay.

"Oikawa-san, can you hear me?" Yamaguchi snapped his fingers near his face, and Tooru flinched, mind suddenly processing.

Tooru tried to shake his stupor, blinking harshly and bringing his shaking hands to rub his face. The Healers face swam from where he crouched before him.

His words were slightly slurred. "Yeah, I think so."

Relief drenched the youngers face at the response, and he helped Tooru shift into more of a sitting position against the hay, brushing the strands of damp hair out of his face. His fingers warm against the chill. Doing a quick check over, Yamaguchi sent a gentle wave of magick through him, feeling for injury. 

His brows were furrowed when he spoke again. "Well, there's nothing...physically wrong, per-say, but there's something...off about your aura."

Yamaguchi laughed, eyes not matching his smile. The Healer wrung his hands, then began casting a quick drying spell, almost as if he was nervous to continue the thought. Tooru stopped him, gently grabbing his hand. "I'm alright, Yamaguchi-kun. Just a bit shaken."

Yamaguchi looked up from his focus, meeting his eyes.

When they met, the Healers had a strange toughness. "Then why would you fall in the first place?"

For a moment, Oikawa faltered, but knowing how pathetic he looked, forced a smile. "Lighting struck close by, nearly singed Minx and I. Bad luck, I guess. But just fluke."

The freckled boys frown deepened. "You're the best rider we have, Oikawa-san." Then he paused, and almost guiltily, he spoke again. "If I don't believe that, there's no way the Heirs will."

A wave a dread washed down him along with a bitterness, and he bit back harsher reply. "They'll never know, because your not going to tell them."

Yamaguchis brows furrowed in worry. "They're your soulbonds, though."

The older took a deep breath, and struggled to his feet. Yamaguchi rushed to help him, holding him steady. "As your Weyr leader, I'm telling you not to tell them. Here, you are under my directive, and I'm telling you, don't."

The younger bristled slightly, pinching his lips, but the older ignored it. Yamaguchi was the only one free of threat right now, and if that meant giving harsher orders to keep it that way, that was fine.

He also didn't really want Yamaguchi to give Iwaizumi another reason to doubt him. The Heir wouldn't care that deeply about his brush with death anyways.

Oikawa took a wobbling step towards the stable doors without the Healer, hand gripping the wall, then stopped. "How did you know to find me anyways?"

"Iwaizumi-domo and Hanamkai-dono were felt something was wrong, and asked me to check on you." He said.

Oikawa didn't respond.

Together, the two made their way to the one of the many entrances, Yamaguchis arm around the elders waist, the duo sopping wet. A bitter chill had soaked through their clothes, a trail of water puddling behind them. Tooru winced, feeling bad for whoever had to mop up after them. 

Once they'd made it through the hall leading to their common area, a high ceilinged room with a number of other doors, he and Yamaguchi split ways. The Healer began stacking logs in the fireplace in the corner, and Tooru slipped through one of the doors to his room.

Their rooms were a small section of castle they'd been given for their stay, four separate rooms and a common area, and rich with luxuries. Furs draped over velvet chairs and cushioned couches, with lovely paintings hanging on stone walls, giving the room a gentle warmth.

After changing, he passed into the kitchen, damp hair still trickling down his back, aiming for some tea to warm his stiff fingers. He'd have to bring one back for Yamaguchi, too.

He spent a bit of time digging through cupboards before a timid servant-child found him. Giggling, they helped him find the boiler and teabags, brown eyes shining. Tooru thanked them with a grin, taking one of the many braided bracelets from his wrist, and slipping onto the child's own.

"It's from my clan. Do you know what we're called?"

The child nodded shyly. "...Your are of Custis Focis, Oikawa-san." They paused, before bursting out, "Is it true you ride dragons?"

Tooru's smile widened, and he nodded. "There are hundreds where I'm from, and even those we ride are thought to be wild. You'll have to come out and meet mine, Minx, soon."

They bowed with renewed enthusiasm, shouting a an excited _thank you_ , before running off.

Once they'd gone, and he'd settled the kettle to warm on the stove, and he slowed, allowing himself a moment of quiet. The fire crackled somewhere behind him.

"Shit," he breathed, eyes burning.

He rested his forearms on the counter, pressing his forehead against the cool wood between them, fighting back his tears. The wood was smooth through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Miserably, he pushed a block against his soultie, muffling the bond.

He was tired; it was overwhelming, overstimulating, the entire experience, and now that the child was gone, he had no one to hold himself together for. Tooru bit his lip, not even wanting to begin to make sense of the memory.

He just wanted this to end.

He could've died, today.

He began to giggle, a bit hysterically, until his sides ached, and they turned to sobs, echoing in the quiet of the kitchen. The tears streaming down his face and broken hiccups were much worse.

He could've died. 

And then it would've been over, passed on to someone else. To the next in line with the gift.

To Tobio. 

Even the thought was a knife to the chest. Over his dead body; she wasn't going to come anywhere near Tobio, or his sister. To anyone.

A sigh coming from deep within his chest, he pushed himself upwards, leaning on his palms, and glanced at the beams of the roof. The bone deep exhaustion from earlier seemed to creep back into his body, leaving entire body feeling like lead.

Why did this keep happening? The trip had simply meant to secure his alliance, and now everything he'd built in mind of his fate was crumbling, and there was nothing to old it together.

There was a whistle, and a puff of steam from the kettle, and Tooru pulled himself away from the counter  with a heave. He grabbed the mugs, and dipped a peppermint teabag in each, vaguely satisfied with having done at least this properly. 

Except he'd forgotten the honey.

Forcing back irrational tears, he shuffled back to the pantry, and began to dig for the small pot. He didn't think his pride could take it if he started to bawl over honey, of all things.

"Looking for this?"

Tooru jerked around, knocking over several items in his haste, and watched as a bowl of grain clattered to the ground before exploding.

Leaning against the counter, stood Hanamaki, his face unreadable, and in his hand, the small blue pot of honey.

Somehow, his presence wasn't relieving in the slightest.

Upon catching sight of his face, the Heirs eyes widened, and his mouth dropped slightly. He set the honey aside, and made a move almost as if he was going to touch Oikawas face. 

The brunette flinched backwards, then laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, "That bad, huh? My apologies."

He tried for a grin.

Hanamaki simply blinked, his face so deeply concerned it hurt. "Gods, Tooru, what happened?"

"Oh, I was only caught in the rain on the way back from a flight. Should've been watching the clouds," Tooru forced a laugh. "Try not to worry, Yamaguchi did exactly as you asked, even though I would have been fine on my own."

His chest tightened. He knew his eyes were puffy, but it couldn't have been that bad.

This was something else.

The Seer shook his head, then reached forward again, his hand nearly tracing the others face. "Who did this?"

"Who did what?" Tooru took another step back, confusion lighting his face. 

Hanamaki looked at him, eyes suddenly dark with anger Tooru couldn't place. "I'm going to ask you once more who was in your head before I touch you and find out."

Tooru's breath stopped. "Hanamaki-san,"

"Who was in your head, Tooru?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, hope u guys enjoyed, though it was kind of a filler chapter. as always, correct me if u see any mistakes, and comments are really appreciated!
> 
> who was in his head ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> thanks for reading :)


	8. bright eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the super sweet DontMindMeDear and CheetaLeopard2.

His hands were shaking. 

Less than a foot away, Hanamaki stood silent, waiting, an expression on his face Tooru couldn't name. 

"I..." 

Magick sparked at his fingertips, burning and writhing in response to his panic, and he clenched his hands into fists, feeling the crescent of his nails dig into the palms of his glove-less hands.

Inches away from his face, Hanamakis hands were pressed firmly against the frame of the pantry door, fingers pale and bloodless with the strength of his grip. His arms create a barricade in the doorway, and it hits Tooru he never really considered Hanamaki to be the confrontational type. Then again, Tooru doesn't really know him at all.

The pale brown of the Seers eyes was murky in the dark, but the sharp glare of anger thinning them to slits was plainly visible. Maybe there was concern behind the screen of fury, but again, Tooru doesn't know.

He thought he'd had the reddish-blonde figured out, and sorted neatly into his boxes of how to deal and react, never considering how he might've been wrong. Oikawa doesn't know how to react, because that's how he functions, figuring people out and using that to his advantage, and now that Hanamaki had broken what Tooru had thought him to be, well. 

He's moving blind.

Hanamaki was keeping him pinned, physically and mentally. Tooru could try lie, but the Seer was too perceptive, and Tooru knew he didn't stand a chance. 

"Makki-chan," He tried, voice placating, then winced as the others fingers tightened around the frame. He'd said the wrong thing.

"Hanamaki," He took a different approach. "It will hurt you. It will hurt Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa, and everyone involved. I can't tell you because it will  _ruin_ you...This is the only way that she can't touch you, and believe me, if the opportunity arises, she will."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he winced at the burnt taste that coated his tongue, an sick feeling running through him. A faint pulse of her presence pushed at the back of his thoughts, twisting through Iwaizumis bond, letting Tooru know of her displeasure in Hanamaki knowing.

He'd said too much, and he doesn't know the effects it will reap. Maybe, if he's lucky, the Hanamaki will hear him and realize the extent of the shit he's entangled in.

In a final effort to sink the nail into the coffin, Tooru felt his voice thin pitifully. "I could never be yours."

There was a moment of horrible emptiness in the dark pantry, and Tooru wishes desperately he could see the thoughts running across the others face, but the dark veiled Hanamkais expression. The tightness in the set of his shoulders was all that was visible.

Then, to Toorus disappointment, a renewed agitation seemed to drip from Hanamakis words when he spoke again. "You already are, Tooru. You don't seem to get that when Iwaizumi grabbed you, he knew what he was doing. He doesn't hate you and it wasn't an accident; he triggered the bond to  _protect_ you!"

Oikawa felt his eyes burn, the words everything he wanted but could never have, knowing that even if it was true it wouldn't matter. An ache was wrapping around his ribs, the awful pressure of panic setting in. "No. You don't understand, Hana. I want it, I want you." His voice broke. "But she will tear everything apart to..."

He paused, knowing if he said what exactly she needed from him, it would only escalate the situation. "I'm betrothed, My Grace. And I've seen what lengths she will go to to claim what is hers. I won't have any of you become collateral damage."

Hanamaki dragged a hand through his hair. "We already are, Tooru. How do you think Yamaguchi would've found you if we weren't already involved? Not involving us was never an option," He let out a strained laugh. "Iwa can feel her in your bond, how heavy her presence is, how suffocating."

His words sent Tooru into a spinning vertigo, and he grabbed onto a shelf to hold himself steady. It'd only been two days since Iwaizumi had formed their bond, and he knew she would only grow stronger. "That, that's why we need to separate the bond before it's too late. You don't understand-"

"Then make me understand!" He shouted, exploding suddenly. 

 A dull silence followed, Tooru not knowing what to say. Explaining would make it worse, and saying nothing at all wasn't an option. He closed his eyes, trying to muffle the hurt in his voice. "Please, you just have to trust me."

"That's not an option anymore." Hanamaki whispered. "You think you're so far gone that nobody can help you. I'm a  _Seer,_ Tooru. _Animo_ magic is what I do, and from what I've seen, that's the only hold she has on you. Tell me I'm wrong."

"I can't," Tooru said eventually, chest aching. "But we will be no chances to find out."

Hanamaki met his gaze, face suddenly scrutinizing. It sent a sliver of worry through him, and he was suddenly completely unsure what the Seer was thinking. Then, Hanamaki stepped back, dropping his arms and putting a few feet between them. His posture relaxed, but his voice was no less firm. "You know nothing, Oikawa-kun."

Hanamakis words left strange feeling in his stomach. Something that maybe once would've been akin to hope, but Tooru knows better than that know; hope takes naivety.

The Seer nodded towards the forgotten peppermint tea, and grabbed the honey jar from where he'd placed it. "Here," He passed it, and Tooru took it dumbly, completely unsure what to make of the others attitude change. He had done a one-eighty in seconds, and it had left the mage on uneven ground.

There was a red blotch of colour on the honey, and Tooru turned to wipe it absentmindedly, but realized his palms were smudged in the deep scarlet. Faintly, he knew it was his blood that had left the smears on the ceramic of the jar. His nails must have carved the crescents into his palms.

That was annoying, he thought.

He looked up, watching as Hanamaki pressed his fingers against the cooled mugs until steam rose from the tea. He pushed them to Tooru, the mage carefully avoiding his touch when he lifted them. "You should take them back before they cool again," He said.

"Oh," Tooru replied. "Thanks."

He lowered his eyes, avoiding the Seers gaze, and balancing the mugs, he made his way around the island counter to the hall. He had just shouldered the door open when Hanamaki spoke again. 

"This isn't us giving up, Tooru. We have no white flags to raise."

Tooru paused, for a moment, not looking back, and said nothing at all.

 

Yamaguchi was calmer when Tooru returned, and grateful for the warm mug of tea. He fussed a bit over the mess of Toorus palms, healing them before Tooru could shoo him and his worrying away. The teen eventually settled into a book while Tooru sat and watched the flames as they danced, the licks of orange and red falling lower and lower until nothing but ember remained.

Later, after both had long gone to bed, Tooru laid awake, watching the storm crest outside through the window with half-lidded eyes. Shivering faintly, he couldn't help but think the scene was terribly familiar. He rolled over, away from the window and the blinding sky.

Outside storm howled on regardless, the scream of the wind sounding horribly foreboding. 

* * *

_Tooru is six years old and the air is cold._

_No, he thinks. The air is cold, but I am no longer six._

_Lightening still shatters outside the window, and rain still drills the earth, but now they move to the slow beat that seems to guide all his dreams of late, and Tooru watches as the lightening spreads and grows as it shatters against the blur of night. Faintly, it reminds him of tree roots- the thin crawling and reaching of tiny fingers._

_He does not watch the lake crest against the sky._

_He is not in his lakeside home, and there is no warring lake below. A fire does not burn nearby, and there is no Wyvern in its belly; the wind does not rattle the walls._

_There is only the cool of the stone beneath his bare feet, and the brush of flowing fabric. His hair is loose, and it tickles his back._

_His mother is not here; she gives no farewell._

_Someone else is, though._

_Her presence clings to the edges of all that he is like cobwebs, sticking and tangling with the threads  of his conscious. He knows she is here, but he does not acknowledge her._

_Tooru has little power left where she is concerned; he will make her speak first._

_When she does not, he begins walking, following the dark corridor to the great doors at the end of the hall. He trails a hand against the rough of the wall, already knowing where it leads._

_She does not follow, or maybe her footsteps are silent. A quiet fury does not allow him to look; defiance. It is all he has left._

_Cool lips touch his ear, and he shudders, thinking of corpses. "Little Tooru. **My** Tooru,"_

_A sickness wells through him, anxiety and panic swirling in his chest, and he wonders if this is what his mother felt all those years ago. Jumpy and nervous in her own skin._

_A strange thought occurs, one he used to ignore; she'd probably left to protect them, too._

_The lips against his ear laugh and trail downwards, icey arms winding around his shoulders as she kisses his neck. "No," She ran a pair of sharp teeth over his jugular, crooning. "She left to save herself, and now I get to have you."_

_Tooru gagged, the scent of sweet ferment rising in the air around them, and shoved at her desperately, but her body was solid as stone; unmoving. Taking advantage of her obvious strength, she began to suck, bringing blood to the surface of his skin in a bruise._

_That, combined with the weight of her words left him unsteady, but he really couldn't argue. He never really grew to know his mother. Instead of protesting, he grew irate._

_"Don't," He snarled, fury flaring. "You don't get to touch me like that. My name may be yours but **I** will never be."_

_She paused her ministrations, a sudden aura of anger surrounding her. "And who do you belong to then?"_

_He did not answer, and suddenly, they were in front of the great oak doors. One was cracked open, swaying in the wind, the other apparent locked. She shoved him against it, eyes wild and bright. "Those boys? The Seer, the Warrior, and the Leader? Oh, my love, my darling. They are nothing."_

_The scent of rain and storm blew in beside him, and he glanced through the open slit of the door, seeing nothing._

_"Maybe," He said, thinking back to the story of the Demon Queen. "But they have ruined you before."_

_They. What an unspecific word. Maybe, referring to the original Heirs of the crown, maybe not._

_He could see it in her eyes she understood his words. He felt her rage swell, but instead of lashing out she forced a laugh through her gritted teeth, and trailed her nose against her throat. He shivered._

_"Go through the door, Tooru." She kissed his throat and his magick shriveled, trying to pull away from her. "Go, and it will be over."_

_Somewhere_ _in the back of his mind, Keiko and Kagayama came to mind, and he froze, suddenly unsure._

_Then, pain flared up Toorus arm, burning like wildfire, and he jerked, watching as Iwaizumis bond spiraled to life, pushing against the oppressive weight of of Her. Within it, a pale red twisted, and with a start, he realized he could feel Hanamaki alongside Iwaizumi._

_Beside him the door slammed shut with a bang, and she turned in surprise, releasing her grip on his arms. When she spun, a nail caught the side of Toorus face, scratching deeply, and he flinched._

_Across from him, stood Hanamaki, eyes ablaze. Iwaizumis presence hung thick in the air, but he was no where in sight when wave of magick swelled from Hanamaki, encompassing-_

Tooru sat up, gasping for breath. Desperately, he scrambled from bed, drawing his magick into a ball of light as he staggered to the lounge. Once there, he dumped the magick onto a set of logs, watching as they jumped to life, casting a warm light around the room.

His heart pounded, refusing to slow, breath coming in quick pants. The scratch on his cheek burned, and when he touched it, scarlet dripped from his fingers.

Quietly, he tucked his face between his knees and cried.

* * *

"Oikawa, I'm going to be very honest with you; I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tooru sighed loudly through his nose, and pressed his hand over his eyes. "Because you're not listening, Kuroo. I've said this like five times!"

Kuroo leaned back in his seat, balancing precariously on the two back legs. "Yeah, but your clan history is confusing. I'm not saying it's not interesting, but half the words you're saying are Latinese, and I only speak Japanese."

Tooru buried his face in his arms, flopping over the long library table. They'd only been discussing history for about a half an hour, and his partner was already useless. The pages he'd been given to mark down their discussion were nearly blank, and Oikawa felt his eye twitch. Kuroo was fantastic as one of Iwaizumis generals, but he was awful concerning history and literature.  

"Where's your official historian, again?"

"Gone today," Kuroo shrugged. "If you wouldn't have missed the meeting yesterday morning you wouldn't have to deal with me but that's your issue. By the way, why'd you miss? Perhaps getting lucky?"

Kuroo smirked, pressing a finger to a spot on Toorus neck. The mage felt him stomach drop to his feet, and slapped a hand over his neck. If the bruise had manifested then that meant-

He could feel his face pale, and in an effort to cover up his reaction, he groaned. "Where's Kenma? You're more insufferable than usual."

It worked, and within seconds, Kuroo was exhaling dramatically, face drooping. "Gone."

Kenma was Kuroos soultie; the pair had been friends since childhood, and their bond was older than most because of that. When the smaller adviser wasn't around, he became annoyingly antsy.

Tooru rolled his eyes. "Where, Kuroo?"

Kuroo stood suddenly, his chair scraping as he straightened. "He's with Kimura-san at the temple, leaving me to this." He tugged Oikawas chair back away from the table. "C'mon. Let's go take a break."

"Kuroo-chan," Oikawa turned, looking up at him. "There's so much to cover that Kimura-san and I didn't get to last time."

In a previous meetings, Tooru and the older woman had only covered a third of the clans history without in depth detail. Luckily, she was a legitimate historian, keeping her own notes beside Toorus own, and showing real interest in their past.

By now, Tooru knew this session with Kuroo would prove useless.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed stare. 

"Ugh, fine." Tooru cursed. "But we're going over the fall of Clan Caeli while we spar."

The guard grinned. "Who said anything about sparring?"

 

The pair had ended up in one of the main armories, Kuroo seeming satisfied to delve into the workings of the royal guard. He had explained the history of every artifact so far, and didn't seem keen on stopping anytime soon.

Vaguely, Oikawa remembered thinking Kuroo was to dull to recall anything past five minutes ago. He wished he'd been wrong.

"These are the fourteenth century armor patterns compared to the modern designs we have right now. Of course, one of the most effective armor set ever was dragon scale," Kuroo gestured to the gleaming copper set in front of them.

He caught the sour look Tooru sent him, and winced. "But those weren't sustainable."

"Who would have thought," Tooru replied, already walking to the next set.

They continued for a bit, touring the rest of the impressive collection, ending up in the regular stables. A older fellow he'd never met was washing a pale brown horse outside the structure, singing a song to himself as he scrubbed.

He had a lovely voice, Tooru thought, giving a handful of treats to Gou, an thick set horse tied near the entrance.

Gou was a speckled gray stallion with an easy temperament and kind eyes. He nuzzled into Tooru's palm, snuffling gently. "He's a sturdy horse. Who does he belong to?"

"Bokuto-kun, one of Alisa-sans generals." Kuroo said, starting to move further into the stable. Oikawa followed.

Kuroo continued absentmindedly. "He's far to brash to be one of mine, but he's a great guy."

"Why do you say that?" Tooru asked, stepping around a small puddle on the dirt floor. The man from outside appeared in the entrance, grabbing Gou and leading him outside. Tooru watched them go.

"Impulsiveness drives me nuts on the field. Most of the work my soldiers handle leans on the more delicate spectrum, and requires planning. Alisa is more touch and go." Kuroo shrugged.

"Kuroo-kun is picky," Oikawa snorted. "Only the elite work under his ranks."

Kuroo laughed, when a small girl appeared at the stable entrance, bowing. "Good morning, Kuroo-san. Matsukawa-sama requested your presence in the meeting hall."

He nodded, dismissing the girl with a wave, then turned to Oikawa. "I've got to go. You know your way around by now?"

Oikawa nodded, biting down on his curiosity. "I'll be fine. It's not like our meeting was incredibly successful anyways." 

"Okay." The other started towards the entrance, Oikawa trailing a few steps behind him. "As always, it was a pleasure." 

"Isn't it always?" The mage asked, watching him disappear in the thick hedges that littered the castle grounds.

The young girl was still at the door of the barn when Tooru passed, and she tapped his arm gently. "Iwaizumi-domo and Hanamaki-domo also requested your presence, Tooru-san. They are waiting in the gardens. Would you like me to guide you?"

Tooru shook his head, patting her head. "You're very kind, but I'll be fine. Run along."

She bowed, then following after Kuroo, leaving Tooru to his thoughts. 

His stomach felt tight. He couldn't imagine a scenario those two would ask to meet with him where he would come out unscathed. At this point, he knew the dream most likely wasn't simply a dream, and his soulties would know that too. The best he could hope for was them not remembering.

He pushed his chin up, squashing his nerves, and took another trail that looped back around to the west garden entrance instead of the south, hoping it would buy him some time to come up with a viable explanation as to whatever had occurred the night before.

Eventually, he found himself on nearing the center of the garden, twisting and turning through the maze-like path. Around him were walls of green just a head taller than himself, speckled with small pink and yellow flowers. He was curving around a corner when it happened.

He stumbled backwards, feeling his magick rise to his palms in burning pins and needles, but grabbed onto the branches of the bush before he fell, feeling the thorns rip into his palms. The other man wasn't as lucky, and ended up seated on the grass, a was a sharp  _ting_ punctuating his fall. Almost an afterthought, Oikawa realized his circlet had been knocked from his head, and was spinning like a dropped coin on the cobblestone path.

An apology caught on the tip of his tongue, the words dying as he met Matsukawas gaze. 

It was almost comical, in a way, that the Emperor was flat on his ass in front of him, the regality that he normally exuded gone with the wind. 

"Oh. I'm sorry." Tooru nearly winced at the flat tone of his voice, wishing he could offer a hand to help him up, but knowing better. Instead he stood awkwardly, watching as Mastukawa pushed himself up. 

His voice was stiff when he replied, Oikawa realizing his magick was probably reacting as well. "It's alright, I should've watched where I was going."

Toorus words clung to his throat, but he forced a grin. "Don't worry, you wouldn't be the first to fall in my great presence, My Grace."

The other looked at him, almost disbelieving, then laughed. "It must have been the unfortunate face, then. It certainly wasn't your charm."

Tooru pouted, relaxing mildly in their short exchange. He'd missed this. "You wound me."

"I'm sure you have plenty of ego left." Matsukawa hummed. "Are you off to see Iwa and Hana?"

Tooru nodded. "Yeah. All good things, I hope."

The other ignored him for a moment, suddenly seeming to hyper focused on something on Toorus neck. When he lifted his eyes again, a low anger simmered behind them. "Nothing that doesn't need to be said."

His words were heavy, no humor present, and Tooru bit back a flinch. 

Mastukawa stepped around him, aura stifling. "I'll see you later, Oikawa-kun."

Tooru nodded, realizing to late the other couldn't see it. He took a moment and closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. His palms stung dully, wet with blood.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the corner, and paused in surprise. He was unsure what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it.

Across the small clearing, a pale cloth was draped over the green grass in a sort of picnic; food covered a portion of its surface, but the rest had plush pillows scattered over the faintly yellow material. A marble fountain splashed a few feet away, a catfish leaping from the water immortalized in the smooth stone.

On the pillows, Hanamaki sat across from Iwaizumi, deep in conversation. In a strange change of events, he seemed to be far more irritated than his partner, who was talking in a low, soothing voice. Iwaizumi said something and reached to run a thumb along Hanamakis cheekbone, seeming unbothered the Seer swatted him away.

Tooru stood and watched them for a moment, feeling the love in the scene and aching. Then, he cleared his throat, plastering on a smile.

"Yahoo," he sang, watching as their faces blanked. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was told you requested me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo~
> 
> its me after not posting for four months, omg sorry guys! I don't really have an excuse but y'know how it is. I kinda lost the drive for this for awhile, but i got a really sweet comment that kicked my butt into gear lol
> 
> as always, hope u enjoyed, let me know iif there's any mistakes, and kudos and comments are reallyyyy appreciated!


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